


Whump Central

by Thunderbird83



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Accidents, Asthma, Car Accidents, Cave-In, Claustrophobia, Coma, Comfort/Angst, Depression, Drunkenness, Ectopic Pregnancy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Natural Disasters, Sick Character, Sprains, Surgery, Unplanned Pregnancy, emergencies, pessimism, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 84,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderbird83/pseuds/Thunderbird83
Summary: Natural disasters, medical emergencies, what else could happen to Liz and the members of Queen?18: With Liz out sick with allergies, a trial run of pyrotechnics during rehearsal goes horribly wrong. Freddie is relatively unscathed, he digs out John, Roger and Brian. John has ankle and rotator cuff problems, Roger breaks several ribs in the explosion but Brian suffers the most. Having been the nearest one to the pyrotechnics the heat injures the nerves in his eyes and he's stricken blind.Keep those ideas coming!





	1. Chapter 1

-Now accepting requests from readers! All these stories do NOT canon; they are standalones. Each chapter is a separate adventure. 

-If you want to see a bandmember(or members) in a situation(medical or disaster type scenario submit your request to me via comments or private messages. 

-No specified tour.

Re-edited for clarity!

TONSILLITIS AND ELECTRICAL BURNS

“So what is going on tonight, ladies?” Liz teased, opening up the door into the green room of the theater. John was stretched out on the couch with a magazine, Roger was just putting on his jeans by the makeup counter, Brian was fluffing out his hair in the mirror, and Freddie was standing just behind her. 

“I’m a better lady than you are!” he swatted her ass as he walked by, picking up his costume. 

“Oh Freddie, I’m all excited now with your hand on my ass. Do it again!” she coaxed, backing her butt into his. “You got me going now!” 

“Oh no, I’ll have to put your fire out!” he took off his robe revealing his blue boxers. Liz ground her ass into his pelvis with a laugh as everyone was turning in her direction or at least looking up now. Freddie put both of his hands on her butt cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze. The guys all knew Liz’s sense of humor now as Freddie gave the medic a few dry humps to really get her going. 

“Now I’m really excited! Hit me with open hands!” Freddie started laughing as he gave his friend repeated swats on both cheeks. Roger grinned and shook his head, flushing deep pink for a moment as John just started giggling. Brian rolled his eyes in the mirror amid all the light slaps and swats. He was still fussing with his hair but Liz spied a smirk on his face as Freddie goofed off with her. 

“Oh yes! I’m your slave now!” she made a goofy face, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. 

“Someone’s had a lot of caffiene already today.” Brian remarked as he continued primping his hair. “Where do you get that energy?”

“I don’t drink coffee, booger brain. All it takes is one little smack on the butt to get me going.” Roger looked up as he picked up his drumsticks, John pulled off his headphones with a rueful look in her direction as he saw Liz’s funny face while Freddie smacked her ass again. 

“What would you think about this?” Freddie grabbed Liz around the waist, made her hug the wall and gave her a huge smack that was ringing in everyone’s ears. 

“I can’t get off without a kiss, Freddie,” the medic whined playfully. “come on!” 

Freddie gripped her black hair in his hands and while he pulled loosely she pretended it was forceful to add to the scene. Looking at her friend upside down was an interesting experience as Freddie locked lips, forcing her to open up her mouth. 

“There you go, wench.” Freddie gave Liz a final smack on the ass as she clutched at the wall, deep into her little performance with her head back, hair in her face with her mouth open. 

“Oh god that was great! Was it good for you too Freddie?” Liz spun around and nudged his crotch with her inner thigh. 

“You are a very strange girl.” he remarked as the medic backed off, satisfied with my her performance. Roger gave her a wink to let Liz know he appreciated the silly antics. Liz were still dating but it wasn’t exclusive. The boys all thought of her as one of them and she was free to flirt with anyone that she wanted. Still, it was the drummer Liz had horny eyes for and he knew it. Freddie was still grinning as Liz zipped him into his odd looking outfit. 

“We’re all strange,” she dismissed. “Look at Brian giving his hair a hand job.” Roger burst out laughing with John as Brian blushed. 

“I think you summed us up completely,” John stretched as he stood up, ready to go on and rock the house like they always did. Roger got into his black vest though usually before the show ended he’d be stripped of his top. Pounding drums was hard work and he was a very animated person anyway. Liz was impressed when she saw him do a timpani solo once which seemed to rob him of every last breath he had. 

“Misfits for one and all. Get dressed all of you, then go out and get sound check done. I’m going to inventory my supplies. I don’t want to administer to any of you tonight!” 

“Your motivational speeches are stuff of legend.” John said to the medic dryly, his face a few inches from her own. When he flirted with Liz or even made a comment like that she always had to think twice. John was so quiet that when he did come up with a zinger or wry comment nobody never expected it to be him. 

“Did you just say that, John?” Roger turned around from where he was positioned on the stairs. Freddie was already up on the stage followed by Brian who seemed to be walking slower than usual. Liz noted it but she couldn’t say anything about it now. John walked over to the stairs, gesturing for Roger to go up and take his place behind the drum set. 

“John’s always been a bit of a surprise. Go get your work done, Queenies.” the first aid station was completely stocked as usual. It was Liz’s first time touring with Queen so she wanted to make a good impression, no matter how ribald or weird her sense of humor was. Ever since college the guys knew how much she liked having her butt slapped.

With the sound check done(it usually took about an hour or two), Liz heard a little yelp of pain on the stage and came up with the red first aid box to see who it was and what it was. 

“All right mate, just sit down,” Brian was talking. “serves you right, getting in the way of my wire like that. Liz, c’mere for a minute.” 

“What did you do?” Freddie sat on the drum riser, swearing colorfully. 

“My fault; I should have known Brian was going to be prancing around with his guitar where I was walking,” he admitted. “sometimes I don’t watch where I walk.” 

“I should say so. You gave it a good wrench,” the medic agreed, taking out an instant ice pack from the kit. She stripped off the center line which allowed the chemicals to mix, producing instant coldness. “ice your ankle for about twenty minutes and you should be fine.” 

“All right.” 

“Anyone else feel out of sorts?” her gaze fell on Brian. “I didn’t notice it back there Brian but you look off.” 

“No, I’m fine.” he insisted, slinging his guitar on and pulling out a sixpence to play with. There was the conclusion to that little mystery, Liz thought. She knew Brian had a unique sound due to that guitar being homemade but she didn’t know that he played with a sixpence. 

“All right, fine. I’ll be watching you.” if it was going to be an issue Brian would come to her. In the meantime there wasn’t anything she could do unless he collapsed onstage. The medic retreated back down into the green room while the audience started entering. 

**

Liz kept a watchful eye on Brian throughout the concert that night. He seemed OK but she could tell he wasn’t feeling well at all. In spite of his bravado it was draining him from start to finish. Even Freddie was worried. At intermission even backstage in the harsh lighting Brian appeared very ill. 

“All right, where do you hurt?”

“What?” he tried to brush her off. 

“Brian, I need you to concentrate for me. What’s wrong with you? Where do you hurt?” Liz looked into his eyes; his pupils were equal which ruled out a concussion. His color was fine except for a little pink in his cheeks. 

“I’m-”

“You’re NOT all right,” Liz interrupted. “I can see it plainly. Does your throat hurt?” 

“Yeah.” she checked his glands which were normal. “Open up.” she aimed a penlight into his throat. “Say ah.” he did so and I could clearly see what the problem was. “you have tonsillitis.” 

“Damn.” he winced as he swallowed. His temperature was about 101 on the thermometer. “How bad is it?” 

“Your tonsils are almost touching and they’re badly inflamed. I think they need to be removed.” 

“Great. As if my throat wasn’t sore enough,” he groused. “do I get to finish the concert?” 

“As long as I take you to emergency right after I’ll allow it. Just don’t faint on stage or it’ll make me look bad.” Liz put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he got up and went back on. 

“You three,” she snapped my fingers at the rest of the band. “Brian’s sick. He’s going to finish this concert but I’m taking him to the nearest emergency room directly after.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” the three looked appropriately worried. 

“He’s got tonsillitis. He’s in some pain so try not to make him sing tonight.” 

“All right.” at least they were reasonable. “Where is he now?” 

“Going back on stage. Hurry up now.” Roger and John went up then Freddie stayed behind for a moment. 

Liz’s friend turned to her, his eyes even darker with worry for his friend Brian. “Take him there the second the show’s over.” Brian was a stoic person and he tended to conceal his ailments until the last minute which was frustrating. Liz was training them that early detection of problems was the key to treating it successfully and more often than not quickly. That information seemed to be lost on Brian though. He was the most frustrating when it came to ailments of any kind obviously. 

The medic squeezed Freddie’s shoulder affectionately. Even though he portrayed himself as a little aloof to his fans he loved his band mates very much and cared about them. “Of course, Freddie.” he and the others had that same frustration that Liz did about Brian but there was nothing they could really do about it. 

Freddie did a classy thing: he took Liz’s hand, raised it to his lips and gave it a kiss. “Only you, lovie.” 

“Thanks gorgeous.” it meant a lot to know that Freddie and the band had such tremendous faith in her. 

**

Right after the show in the green room, Brian swayed a little as he put his guitar back in its case, shut and latched it, then stood back up. Liz could see he was definitely dehydrated from his performance, not to mention those hot stage lights probably increased his fever by a few degrees which made him very uncomfortable.

“Try to drink some water.” Roger persuaded him. Brian brushed him aside, saying that swallowing anything hurt at the moment. At least Roger tried; all kudos to him. The drummer glanced over at the medic as Brian put his hand on the makeup table. 

My friend tried to stay upright but it was a losing battle. Roger could see it coming and grabbed a hold of Brian’s arm as his legs gave out. “Liz!” 

“Shit!” she bounded over, grabbed Brian’s other arm and lowered him down on the floor. “Brian?” 

Brian was almost completely out of it due to the dehydration. His eyelids fluttered but he didn’t seem very coherent at all. Freddie knelt next to Brian, applying a fresh ice pack from the freezer to his friend’s forehead. “What can I do for him, Liz?” John knelt down next to her, his blue eyes locking onto her gray ones. Roger brushed Brian’s hair away from his sweaty forehead as the guitarist’s eyes closed. 

“Go grab me an IV kit. He’s got to have fluids in him or he won’t be stable enough for surgery.” John dashed off as Roger seemed dumbstruck. 

“What is going to happen now?” 

“Well Roger, provided the fact I can get the needle into his vein, he will be transported directly into an operating room and have those troublemakers removed from his throat. I advise you all not to look if you don’t like needles.” Roger was not the squeamish type, having studied biology and gotten his first aid certificate. Freddie wasn’t either, nor was John. Ironically Brian was a bit squeamish but that didn’t factor into this situation. 

“OK.” John brought me the kit, helpfully opening it up and spreading the packages out so Liz could grab them easier. Roger left Brian’s upper body and knelt down on the opposite side of the medic, picking up a long blue elastic tourniquet. At least it was great to have someone else in the band with some medical training, Liz thought. Roger was pretty quick on the uptake and it was like he could read her mind at some points. 

“I’m going to try a twenty gauge needle.” Liz opened up the plastic wrapping, removed the cap as Roger tied the tourniquet over Brian’s upper arm. Her fingers probed the area gently. “Tighten it up a little more, Roger.” 

“What are you doing?” Roger retied the tourniquet as he opened up an alcohol swab, disinfected the site and pointing out one vein that he thought would be right. 

“I’m checking his arm here for a vein that’s rugged so I can intubate him.” Liz answered John distractedly. “if he’s dehydrated the veins don’t stick out as much. I think I have a good candidate!” a quick jab, a little spurt of blood told her she had nailed it the first time. “Thank god! I usually miss! I need some sticky tape and the sticky squares.” John unwrapped them for her, put them where she directed as Roger untied the tourniquet. Freddie kept the ice pack on though he did look a little green in the face but he controlled it. 

“Time to call for help.” John rushed away to do it as Liz made sure the IV catheter was fast, took the tubing, connected it to the IV input, unraveling the tubing as she went. A saline bag that John had brought up was going to be put to good use. While the medic worked with the tubing, Roger took the input for the bag, jammed it in to pierce the opening, then made sure that the saline was flowing freely. He put the bag on a counter top higher than Brian so gravity would help it flow. 

“OK I need a set of vitals.” Brian’s vitals were in the normal range. Freddie wrote them down as John told Liz that the ambulance was on their way. 

“Good.” they arrived pronto, took Brian, then Liz went with him. “Do you guys want to come with me?” 

“I want to head to bed.” John looked as tired as she felt. “Keep us informed, OK?” 

“Will do.” Freddie and Roger were going to an afterparty next door.

**

In the emergency department Liz was sitting near Brian thumbing through an ancient magazine when the doctor came in. 

“So you must be Ms. Hammond who works with these guys!” she spoke cheerfully. “I’m glad you got the IV started when you did.” 

“If I waited any longer those veins would have collapsed. Does your diagnosis back me up?” 

“Yes it does. I’ll be taking him into surgery in a few minutes.” Brian was still unconscious, his temperature had been clocked at 103, but the vitals were reassuringly constant and he was slowly getting rehydrated. “His tonsils are actually touching each other and are quite inflamed.” 

“Ugh no wonder he was uncomfortable tonight.” the medic pressed her friend’s hand. “So it’ll be about three hours then.” 

“More or less. He’s young and healthy and he’ll bounce back pretty quick.” 

“All right. I’ve got these guys’ power of attorney. We all do it for each other so I’ll sign off on his consent forms while we wait here.” there were several forms to sign off on and by the time she was done, the anesthesiologist asked about Brian’s allergies. 

“He has none.” 

“Even better.” the doctor put the gurney in gear using the foot brake. “It’s time for some action!” he took Liz’s friend away behind the operating room double doors. 

“Godspeed, Brian.” 

**

Three hours was a lot of time, especially since the concert had gotten out at ten so Brian would be out at 1 AM. Liz camped out on the couch in the waiting room, happy that she was the only one in there. It wasn’t a full moon nor was there any traffic accidents that night so the emergency room stayed very quiet. Sleep overtook her before she knew it.

“Ms. Hammond?” the surgeon shook Liz awake. “Mr. May is resting in the post operative care unit. He came through it wonderfully and his fever’s already dropped a degree and a half.” 

“This is really good,” Liz rubbed her eyes. “as long as he’s all right.” 

“He’s going to do very well. My nurses are going to be looking after him all night down here. There is a chance he’ll be sick from the drugs.” 

Liz waved that away. “You can’t predict everyone’s reaction. I gotta get back to the hotel.” 

“He’ll be in a room by morning. Go get some sleep.” 

“Thanks, doctor.” the medic was rewarded with a beaming smile. 

At the hotel Liz opened up the door to the room that Roger and John were staying in. Her deal with the band regarding hotel accommodations was that she got to spend a night with each of them in their bed. Platonic of course-just sleeping and no shagging. It was her turn to spend a night with her ex, John. He was already in bed and sleeping so she tried not to wake him. 

“How is he?” Freddie ambushed Liz outside the door, making her jump. “I hope he’s well.” 

“He’s had surgery and his fever is going down. All good signs.” 

“Good. Go to sleep now,” Freddie cuffed his friend on the shoulder. “don’t make me spank you again.” 

“I’d like it too much.” she chuckled tiredly. “Good night, handsome.” 

Freddie bade Liz goodnight and went to his room. The medic changed into her nightgown and slid into the bed with John. Roger was nowhere to be seen so he must have been out partying still. In his sleep John curled up next to Liz, putting his arm around her waist with a little smile on his face. 

She smiled back before submitting to somnolence, happy she was blessed with such friends and to be on such good terms with her ex boyfriend. He and Liz were still flirty and teasing like she was with everyone else, but he could really talk to her if he wanted. John was a cutie. Why did she ever break up with him? Then Liz remembered; some pretty redhead had caught his eye and both mutually agreed to see other people. Neither one wanted to become exclusive so young which made sense. 

**

The next day dawned gray and drizzly. When Liz got up Roger was in his bed looking a little worse for wear but thankfully she didn’t smell any alcohol fumes on him. The clock on the wall read 8:30 AM so it was time to get up. John was still asleep so she clambered over him, shed the nightgown, wrapped a towel around her body, then went into the bathroom. 

About 15 minutes later the medic was standing at the bathroom sink French braiding her hair when John entered behind her, all ready for a shower. 

“Well you’re already up,” he put his hands on her shoulders for a moment, then gave her a front to back hug. “when did you get in last night?”

“About 2 or 3 AM.” Liz finished braiding and tied the elastic. “Brian’s doing great. He won’t be able to see anyone yet. Probably the afternoon would be better.” 

“Oh OK. We’re going to meet at the stage and go over some ideas for new songs. Freddie’s got a few in his mind that I would like to hear.” 

“Right,” Freddie liked to have a little gathering as soon as he got an idea into his head. “what he says is usually pretty interesting.” 

“Are we all up then?” Roger’s voice wafted over to them. “Shall I order room service?” 

“Sounds great, Rog.” John put his head on Liz’s shoulder as they looked at each other in the mirror. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

“All right.” Roger picked up the phone. 

That day Liz chose the standard blue jeans, rhinestone black leather belt, black ankle boots, and a tie dyed top that left her shoulders bare. When room service came, John was attired in light blue jeans and a flannel shirt in yellow. Roger was still lying in bed, not wanting to get up. 

John and Liz chatted for awhile as Roger grumbled through breakfast, at one point telling Liz and John to get a room but both retorted they should kick him out of their room. After that Roger kept his grouchiness to himself, slouching off to the shower when Freddie knocked on the door. 

“Ready to come down to the stage, lovies?” Freddie looked fresh as a daisy wearing black jeans, Adidas sneakers and a yellow polo top. The bassist, singer and medic walked down to the arena which was only a few blocks away.

“Yeah. John and I had to smack Roger until he got into the shower. Late night I guess.” 

“Say no more!” Freddie sat at the drum riser then got up and went over to the drums itself. “Care to jam until he shows up?” 

“I can’t play anything.” Liz shrugged as John joined them. He and Freddie jammed for a few minutes until Roger finally showed up. 

“Well, maybe I can show you guys a skill I learned very young. My parents had the notion that I could be a candidate for the Olympics someday. When I was six I was entered into a junior gymnastics camp. My younger brother was put into swimming and my sister was ice skating.” 

“Really?” Roger paused in his drumming. John and Freddie sat on the drum riser while Liz paused, muscle memory came back to her, culminating in her turning a neat handspring. 

“You still practice it seems,” Freddie observed as he stretched his arms out in front of him. “You’re good.” 

“Thanks. I was a champion all the way up to high school where I got involved in sports. I still love baseball in every way.” the old routine was coming back to her. Thankfully most of it was a floor routine, not parallel bars or pommel horses. She didn’t even like using the balance beams. “Want to see my old routine? It’s fairly easy.” 

“Sure.” Liz did the old routine for them. 

“Over here we have a nice bar,” behind the drum risers Liz easily jumped and caught the bar, hanging upside down on it. “No hands!” she only did that for a few seconds. Roger watched as she released her grip and landed on her feet. He grinned and was about to say something when an odd noise reached their ears. 

“Shit!” Freddie jumped as the both of us came running. John was lying on the floor with his eyes closed as Liz fell to her knees beside him with Roger running off to get the kit.

“What happened to him, Freddie?” 

“He got a shock, that’s what! He was reaching for something and I saw him! He couldn’t let go-the electricity you know-so I grabbed my towel, wrapped it around him and broke the connection.” Freddie had obviously been paying attention to John’s electricity lectures. 

“Good call! I need to check him for electrical burns.” inspecting John’s hands, wrists, arms, etc, the medic found a few second degree burns but nothing else. Roger came back with the kit as Liz treated the burns, propped him up, then told the others they had to wait for him to come around. 

“Why don’t we put him on the couch in the green room?” Freddie and Roger maneuvered their friend down into the green room where John was put on the couch. Liz put the first aid kit nearby, checking for John’s pulse. 

“His pulse is fine. It won’t be long before he wakes up.” she reassured her friends. 

“I hope so. He scared the life out of me,” Freddie was still wide eyed. “glad to have you here.” 

“I’m glad to be here too.” Liz pecked Roger on the cheek. 

Fortunately John woke up about fifteen minutes later as they were discussing going to see Brian. The medic gave John a once over, pronounced him fit, then they all took off for the hospital.

**

“So nurse, how is he?” Liz accosted Brian’s nurse outside his room as the three men filed in. 

“He’s had a bit of a rocky recovery,” the guy nurse told her. “Brian’s been sick from the drugs they gave him and while that passed he’s nursing his sore throat and being gloomy.” 

“Brian’s always been gloomy. It’s not unusual. When we were in college he’d get down when exams were coming. It’s his process. Now he just wants to be with us.” 

“Oh I understand that. We can discharge him in a few hours when the doctor comes to check on him.” 

“How’s the fever doing?” 

“It’s gone. I’ve given him some medicine for his sore throat which he says helps so the doctor will give him a supply of the stuff for when he leaves.” 

“Sounds good,” Liz entered the room. “hi, Brian! The nurse says we can bust you out of here as soon as the doctor takes a look at you.” 

Brian looked pale but not feverish thankfully. He brightened up a little bit when he saw her and even more so when she told him about going back to the hotel. John and Roger sat by the window while Freddie clasped his friend’s hand. Liz took the other one as the doctor appeared. She gave Brian a once over, discussed discharge instructions and left to type them up for him. 

“You get to come back to the hotel with us so let’s get this shit off of you.” the nurse was of course nowhere in sight. The medic wasn’t too surprised though; with the nursing shortage a lot of the emergency medical technicians wound up pulling a lot more weight. She made Brian sit up and with Roger’s help they got all the EKG wires off of Brian, Liz took out the IV line, Roger threw the tubing and bag away. 

“Once we get the instructions back you’ll have to sign the form and then we can go.” Freddie and Roger chatted with Brian, trying to perk him up a little bit. 

“Guys, you don’t have to do that.” Brian told them nicely. “The nurse says I still have a lot of drugs running in me and I need to lay low for the next few days.” 

“Why don’t you tell him about what happened to John?” Liz intervened. 

“Something happened to Deacy?” 

John didn’t look fazed at all which was one of his many qualities. There were a few bandages on his neck and chest but they weren’t really visible. 

“Yeah. I don’t know how it happened but Deacy here got a mild electrical shock.” 

“Roger and I were at the back of the stage near the drums and we didn’t see it.” the medic clarified. 

“Oh damn. But you’re OK, right, Deacy?” 

The mild mannered bassist nodded his head. “I don’t know how it happened really. I reached for something and I must have come in contact with a live wire. You remember the body generates electricity as well so I completed the circuit and I got a nasty shock.” 

“That’s where I come in,” Freddie took it up from there. “I remembered John telling us not to touch someone who is actively being shocked as I’d get a shock myself. I took my towel, passed it over Deacy, then pulled him away. He got some electrical burns and was knocked unconscious for about 20 minutes but then he roused. Liz and Roger both got his burns tended to and he seems fine.” 

“Mr. May you are cleared to go!” the nurse looked taken aback by the fact Brian was already spruced up and clear of medical equipment. 

“We didn’t have all-” John nudged Liz, meaning shut up, girl. 

“All right, come on, Brian!” she sang out. “You don’t want a wheelchair, right?”

“Correct.” he stood up, looking wobbly but soon recovered his brisk stride.


	2. Cave In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz, Roger and Freddie become trapped in a cave in after an earthquake rocks Central Park.

STORY 2: CAVE IN

 

Liz/Roger/Freddie

 

“Isn’t it a great day to be out walking here?” Liz grinned. Roger had one of her hands; Freddie had the other. They were in Central Park where they were rebuilding the snack shack. It was a beautiful fall day; they were all wearing dark blue denim jackets and jeans with brightly colored shirts. Roger tended to go for red, Freddie loved yellow but Liz loved green most of all. 

“It’s going to get chilly tonight.” Freddie was telling them as it started to grow dark out. Roger and Liz were pretending to listen to Freddie’s rambling on when there came a terrific rumbling sound from somewhere. 

“What is that?” piping, tools, scaffolding and beams started to fall for some reason then Roger realized that it was the ground-it was shaking! 

“It’s an earthquake!” there was no place to run which was even more frightening but they had to do something. Roger and Freddie grabbed her hands and forced her to run somewhere. Liz got more and more confused as the boys ran, nearly dragging her with them at one point. 

“Where are we going?!” she shouted. 

“SHIT!” was the next thing Liz heard then complete silence. 

“Oh my god, where are we?” Freddie was talking? All Liz could see was blackness. “Where is Liz? Roger? Liz?” 

“What is it?” Roger sounded like he was in pain. “Ugh, I can’t see a thing.” 

“Where is Liz? Wait a second!” the medic heard a metallic clinking and the hissing of a lighter. “It’s tiny but better than nothing. Where is she?” 

“I dunno, Fred,” Roger sounded drowsy, tired. He must have received a concussion at the least, Liz thought. “lemme look.” he produced his own lighter. “Where are we?” 

“I think we’re in a hole...” Freddie muttered. “Hang on, here’s a grate. Now I remember! The ground was shaking and we were running for cover. I saw a small culvert near the pond and we ducked into it. I don’t see Liz though I know she’s in here. Liz!” 

“Fred, the culvert exit’s been completely sealed off.” there was a scratching sound. “We’re trapped!” 

“Calm down!” Freddie ordered him. “First things first. We need to find Liz.” 

“All right.” the medic heard a lot more scratching and shuffling “What is this?” a few moments later Liz felt his fingers brush over her face. “Freddie! I found her!” 

“Thank god! Is she awake?” 

“No. Not as far as I can tell.” 

“Damn!” Roger hoisted Liz’s body up by the armpits like he’d been taught to and she felt his fingers scrabble over her head. 

“I don’t think she’s concussed, Freddie. I don’t feel anything of that nature. Definitely no skull fracture.” 

“What else could it be?” 

“Shock most likely. It’s cold in here.” 

“You don’t have to be a medical man to know that shock is bad. How can we rouse her?” 

“We can’t.” Roger propped his friend up in his lap. “She might rouse if I share some of my body heat with her.” 

Roger was always the most active of all of them so he was always the warmest. Liz inhaled sharply and gave a noise of pain. 

“Liz? Are you awake?” she blinked rapidly as Roger’s silhouette came into focus. He was illuminated by the emergency light at the top of the culvert and she could see Freddie’s silhouette about three feet away. “Finally that light came on!” 

“Guys,” her voice was a pitiful little squeak, nothing at all like what they were used to. “I’m very cold.” 

“I should think that you are,” Freddie came closer to them. “we’re all cold down here.” 

“They’ll find us,” Roger promised, locking one hand in hers. “we will get out of here.” 

“How big is this culvert anyway? Maybe five feet high and four to six feet long? The entranceways would be blocked off. Can you guys see any vents?” 

“Not in this part.” 

“We’ll need to keep our conversations down to an absolute minimum to avoid taking in too much air.” 

“You think that it’s possible we’ll suffocate?” 

“We can’t have more than a day’s worth of air in here and just my luck I could get a bad asthma attack.” 

“Does the damp bring it on?” 

“Fortunately no but as the air gets thinner my lungs might act up. We need to just relax together now.” 

“Conserve energy.” Freddie nodded. “right.” 

Despite the circumstances Liz felt very safe with Roger and Freddie. The only thing they needed to do was to take hands so they were all interlocked and communicate with the eyes and hands instead of wasting breath. All knew how dire the situation could get. The three of them felt like they were drifting in and out, hoping to wake up in the hospital and have plenty of air to breathe. 

**

John and Brian felt the earthquake from their hotel near Central Park. They waited a few hours after the quake but their friends did not come back. Brian was starting to get worried as John walked over to the phone, picked it up, then called the police. The cops started an immediate search while the two bandmembers waited apprehensively. 

“Do you think they’re all right?” Brian was curled up on his bed, John on the other one. He was too anxious and worried to sleep so he didn’t even bother to change. It wasn’t like them to not come straight back or even call to let their friends know that they were all right. John glanced out the window as a thunderstorm came into the area. He saw a flash of lightning, remembering how Liz liked to watch the storms as they came.

“I hope so, Brian. I really hope so,” John sighed and sank into a troubled sleep as did Brian. 

By the next day they were on edge, having dreamt of all kind of worst case scenarios that could have happened to their dear friends. The police hadn’t called them yet with any kind of news though they were combing through Central Park where Freddie, Roger and Liz were last seen. 

“Oh god,” John put his face in his hands. “Brian, I don’t know..” 

Brian hadn’t heard him at all. “You know we aren’t doing anything just sitting here in the hotel. We need to go down where the police are in the park and help them out.” 

“That’s a good idea.” the two men left the hotel and walked over to the park. John glanced over at his tall friend when he was walking. “Bri, I keep thinking-what if they’re dead?” 

“They’re not. We won’t think that way, John. You know how Liz is a trained paramedic and Roger has experience medically too. Freddie’s practical and he’s cool in an emergency. The three of them are very resourceful.” 

“I can’t help but think-” 

“Change your way of thinking,” Brian cut him off. “be positive. They will find them.” 

“I hope we find them intact, breathing, whole. It would kill me if they died.” 

“Why are you being so morbid, Deacy?” Brian gave his friend an odd look. “Don’t think that way right now.” 

John kept his thoughts to himself though he was rather pessimistic at the outcome. It had been almost 18 hours since they had last heard from their friends. He knew that the longer it took to find them the worse the outcome could be. Freddie was like a brother to him; he recognized John’s moods, was able to get him to laugh, and when Freddie was around John become a little more extroverted. With Roger it was the same way though a little more superficial; they didn’t connect on a more personal level but it was a firm and solid friendship. Liz was a lot like Roger; both of them were big extroverts so it was no wonder that the two of them got along so well. There was an undeniable sexual chemistry between the two of them but apart from having sex once there was no further intimacy that he knew about. 

“Hi,” Brian introduced himself to the sergeant in charge of the search and rescue. “we’d like to help.” 

**

In the culvert, Freddie found himself getting lightheaded. Roger looked like he felt the same way. Neither one of them even had the energy to shiver anymore as the temperature had dropped sharply. Liz was lying in her friends’ laps as she tried to conserve air but all of them were increasingly dizzy. 

“I think… we’re… done for..” Roger gasped out, closing his eyes. 

“At least we’re… going out.. together..” did Freddie say that or did he just think it? 

At the same time one of the policemen found the culvert, grabbed a few shovels from the groundskeeping shed and began to dislodge all of the rocks to make a little hole. 

“It’s a drainage culvert! Guys! I think they could be here!” more shovels were taken up as Brian and John picked up flashlights and began to peer in. In a few minutes one of the policemen managed to clear a big hole so he could squeeze through. “I found them! Pass the oxygen masks into the hole-they’re not breathing!” 

John turned white as Brian became pale. A few minutes later their friends were brought out of the culvert on stretchers. First up was Freddie who looked muddy and dirty but otherwise all right. The same for Roger and Liz when they were pulled out. 

“Mr. May and Mr. Deacon? I’ve just examined your friends.” a gentleman in a fireman’s outfit came over to them.

“How are they?” 

“Not bad considering the state that they were in. All of them have strong vitals and they don’t show any signs of serious injuries. They were in there for about 19 hours total so I would not be surprised if they come down sick with colds later.” 

“What happened in there? Why did they stop breathing?” John inquired. 

“That culvert was five feet high and about six feet long and it was tightly sealed off by the cave in of rocks and dirt. No air was able to get in or out so they essentially suffocated.” 

“Oh god,” Brian groaned. “but they will be fine?”

“Yes I’m sure. They had only stopped breathing for about a minute or two but they’re showing signs of recovery pretty quickly now. It won’t be long before they regain consciousness.” 

“Where are they?” 

“We are taking them to the hospital to observe them overnight. It’s just a precaution,” he added hastily. “Standard procedure. They were also hypothermic in there as well so we have to raise their body temperatures and that’s a process in itself.” 

“Right. We need to go with them.” 

The firefighter smiled. “I expected so. Take an ambulance if you want-we’ve got them ready to go if you want to join your friends. They’re all going to the same place.” 

“All right.” John chose to ride with Liz while Brian went in with Roger. The patients were triaged and taken to a procedure room. John and Brian stayed near the door while the doctors and nurses were administering to their friends. The trio were moved to the hospital gurneys so the ambulance ones were free, body temperature was measured, all of them were well into the hypothermic range. 

“They look so lifeless.” John had to avert his eyes. 

“Stop that.” Brian scolded. “They’re working on them.” all of them were stripped down naked, warm towels were put on them to try to raise their body temperature. All three patients had a blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter meters on one finger to keep them under close observation. 

“Mr. May, Mr. Deacon, you shouldn’t be in here,” the firefighter told them, ushering them out to the waiting room. “the nurses will call you when they get put into a room for the night. As soon as their body temperature normalizes we’ll call you back.” 

“How long does it take generally?” 

“About 3-4 hours. They will be fine.” the reassuring smile was lost on John but he kept up the premise that it would be OK for Brian’s sake.

The doctors slowly raised up their patients’ temperatures to around 98.6, started treating them for mild dehydration and since they hadn’t regained consciousness yet admitted them to an emergency department room for the night. John and Brian camped out in the room with them, unwilling to leave in case something else happened.

**

Roger started to wake up slowly in the wee hours in the morning. He became vaguely aware of a little snoring sound and cracked open one eye to see John lying in a recliner. The bassist had his lips slightly parted which produced a little snore. 

“Well, someone’s awake,” Brian smiled at his friend. “you three had us worried. What do you remember?” 

“The three of us were talking and walking through the park when there was an earthquake. Freddie got us into the culvert to protect us from anything falling. Liz...” 

“She’s right here. Turn your head to your left.” she was there with a nasal cannula on instead of the mask. There were still smears of dirt on her face as Roger supposed Freddie had some on his and he probably did too. “The firefighters found you guys in the culvert. It was pretty cold in there, but the air was really thin.” 

“I remember.. I was really lightheaded..” 

“I bet you all were. Anyway, the firefighters and police rescued you and brought you here. They raised up your body temperature and you’ve been in here ever since.” 

“Right. Am I the first?” 

“To regain consciousness? Yes.” Brian answered smoothly. “Now that you’re awake the others will follow and we can get you all out of here.” 

“I’ll be glad to go.” 

“We’ll be glad to take you out of here.” the guitarist pulled the blanket up over Roger’s form. “Sleep now.” 

A little while later Freddie woke up. Brian told him what he’d told Roger, gave Freddie an extra blanket from the warmer, then reassured him that as soon as Liz woke up they could all go to the hotel. Freddie accepted all of Brian’s reassurances without a doubt, happy that he would be able to leave the hospital. With his friend nearby he happily went back to sleep.

Liz awakened around 6 AM with the memories of being stuck in the culvert haunting her mind. She woke up with a gasp which also woke up John. He jumped up from the recliner, nearly tripping over the foot rest in his haste to get to Liz’s side. The medic began to cough which made John think that she was beginning another asthma attack. He fumbled in her clothes, pulled the inhaler out of her denim jacket and offered it to her. She inhaled the medicine as quietly as possible so she didn’t disturb the others, lying her head back down towards John.

“It’s all right,” John soothed her, brushing her hair back from her face. “just breathe.” Liz drew in a shaky breath, forced herself to calm down, then looked up at John. “Want to sit up?” 

“That would help me breathe better,” she instructed him on how to raise the bed a little bit. “oh god, John, I didn’t think I was going to get out of there!” 

“I wasn’t sure that I would be seeing you alive again.” he muttered, drawing up the recliner and sitting in it. 

Liz’s eyes darted back and forth, not sure of what she wanted to say yet. John was being a little emotionally vulnerable to her which she respected so she decided to focus on her ex boyfriend. He was thinking along the same lines that she was anyway. “It was so cold in there, Freddie and Roger shared what body heat they had with me but we were going to suffocate anyway. The two of them don’t seem to be claustrophobic but I definitely am. The air got really thin and all of us fainted. I can’t remember anything else.” 

“Sounds terrifying.” John empathized. “I’m so glad that you’re all alive and safe.” 

Liz had a few tears run down her eyes that John realized was a delayed reaction from the whole incident. She didn’t cry but allowed her friend to give her a big hug and a kiss on one cheek. John hoped that the hug conveyed all the words and emotions that he was finding it hard to express at the moment. He definitely didn’t like seeing her in the hospital, pale, with a cannula under her nose, but at least she and the others were alive. They were alive, well, and were set to be discharged a little later on. 

“Sleep, Liz.” he directed her. 

“Only if you do.” John smiled.


	3. Bus Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band is in a horrible bus accident-Freddie, Brian and Roger have relatively minor injuries but John is hurt badly in the crash and dies on the operating table twice. Liz talks to John while he is unconscious, trying to bring him back from the brink of death.

Story 3: Bus Accident 

Deacy

GRAPHIC

 

The bus driver had been in the appropriate lane in traffic when an eighteen wheeler tried to get into their lane. All vehicles had been going about 80 miles an hour so when the trucker failed to yield to let the bus go it rammed into the side of the bus, hot metal and sparks flying everywhere. Immediately the bus rolled over a few times and was sent careening into the concrete barrier. Inside the bus it was deathly quiet for a few minutes, all occupants were completely unconscious. 

“Oh my god!” Roger blinked awake, shaking with as he realized he was lying half off of a bench seat and half on the floor. The drummer sat up with blood streaming down his face. His right arm hurt like mad and he was shaking. “Guys!” Freddie and Brian were lying haphazardly near him, both of them were bloody and unresponsive. “Deacy!” Roger checked their pulses which were completely normal so he thought they’d be OK for a few minutes while he checked on his bass playing friend. 

Sirens wailed in the distance getting closer to them. The entire bus was sideways so Roger had to crawl on his seat, slide down to the floor, then work his way to the back of the bus. “Deacy!” he called hoarsely. “My god, I hope you’re all right!” the drummer spied his friend lying on the floor of the bus but not until he got closer did he realize just how badly John was hurt. 

“Oh my god.” John had both of his feet pinned down by a seat that had come loose exerting some pressure on his ankles. His jeans were ripped and torn with some shallow cuts oozing a little blood but Roger saw some metal in John’s upper legs. John’s shirt was torn almost completely off so Roger could see that his friend had a long metal fragment, about seven inches driven into his skin. “Fuck!” that was all Roger could see but he had the sick realization that John was probably impaled. Any attempt to move him would spell absolute disaster and probably kill him. 

John also had a chest full of sharp metal and broken glass, he had shallow cuts on his neck, his left arm appeared to be broken. 

Sirens came very close as Roger somehow stood up and got himself to the entrance of the bus. The paramedics came and wedged the door open so he could get out. 

“Where’s Liz?” he croaked. 

“Liz? She’s sitting her exams today. How many are in the bus?” 

“Three others,” Roger gazed at the paramedic through increasingly blurry eyes. “John at the back.. he’s hurt really bad.. please, help him!” 

“We’ll get him, sir. Come on, let’s get you looked at.” the paramedic barked orders for the others to get into the bus for the others. Roger was sat down in one of the ambulances and examined. “I want to take you in to get an x-ray of your head. You might have a slight concussion. Your friends will be coming with us of course.” 

“Of course. I want to help them but I don’t think that I can..” Roger’s adrenaline had worn off and he fainted. 

**

“Mr. Taylor?” someone spoke as they shone a penlight into his eyes. “Mr. Taylor, I’m Dr. Lancaster a trauma surgeon. Your pupils are equal and your x-ray is normal. I think that you can be discharged as long as you go home and take it easy. I was told that you fainted at the scene.” 

“Yeah I did.” Roger groaned, the memories of the bus accident coming back to his mind. He saw John clearly, looking all bloody and impaled.. Brian and Freddie all beat up and bloody as well.. 

“I think that was more from shock,” Dr. Lancaster picked up an instrument from the tray. “let me stitch those cuts closed and you’ll be all right.” Roger swore as the doctor injected local anesthetic under the cut on his head, his chest, and his left hand. “Stings like mad I know.” the doctor sympathized as he began to stitch. 

“What about my friends?” 

“Mr. May fractured several ribs and dislocated his left shoulder. We will be keeping him overnight for observation. Mr. Mercury sustained a very mild concussion and he sprained his left ankle badly. We’ll be keeping him too. Both of them are full of cuts and bruises the residents are stitching closed as we speak.” 

“How about John Deacon?” 

“John was hurt very badly in the crash as you no doubt know. He was pinned by his ankles but they didn’t sustain any damage. He was impaled through the lower abdomen by a metal fragment from the bus, he took a chestful of debris and the extent of the damage won’t be apparent until we get in there. Oh, and he broke his left arm in two different places.” 

“What are you bothering with me then? Go save John!” 

Dr. Lancaster chuckled as he wove a neat row of sutures. “He’s being prepped for surgery right now there, Mr. Taylor. Mr. May and Mr. Mercury have already been admitted and moved to a room. You’re more than welcome to go up there with them.” 

“Be honest with me,” Roger’s blue eyes clouded over with worry. “do you think John has a chance?” 

“If we can get in there and clear out the damage than there’s a chance. If we don’t do anything he will certainly die,” Dr. Lancaster was blunt which Roger appreciated. “it will be a long surgery anyway. We might have to do it in two separate surgeries. I don’t know until I get in there.” 

“Roger!” a voice cried at the door. “I’m so glad you’re all right!” Liz appeared at the entrance, crossed over to the drummer and took his hand. Dr. Lancaster chuckled as he finished stitching Roger’s wounds. 

“Liz! God I want you here with us so bad!” he hugged her. 

“I think that you two need to catch up. Liz is one of our finest paramedics but you know that. She works for EMI now. We miss you down here in emergency, Liz!” Dr. Lancaster teased gently. 

“I don’t miss working here!” she shot back with a smile. “Come on Roger, let’s sign off your discharge and I’ll take you upstairs.” 

“OK.” they did so and Liz brought him to Freddie and Brian’s room. They were cleaned up, bandaged, now completely asleep. 

“They woke up once when Dr. Lancaster treated them and asked for some sleeping medicine. Neither one of them know how bad it is with John,” Liz bit her lip. 

“Hey,” Roger took her hand. “the doctor told me what was wrong. He was impaled, has a shitful of glass and metal in his chest, a broken arm but he’ll be fine.” 

“Dr. Lancaster tends to paint it in a good light. Roger I saw the x-ray. John’s got several broken ribs, a lot of metal and glass in his chest. What’s worrying me is the metal impalement is right near his abdominal aorta. That’s a major blood vessel, Roger.” 

“Oh god,” he remembered biology and first aid. “if that doctor screws anything up John would bleed out in less than a minute.” 

“Even if the surgery is successful, Roger, any kind of infection could set in and potentially kill John.” Liz’s eyes teared up. “He’ll be really fragile.” 

Roger didn’t say anything but hugged his friend close, kissing her on the cheek. A little sob escaped him, Liz guided him to the cot between the beds and made him sit down. 

“You guys need to rest all right? I’ll be back in the morning. Keep me informed.” she tucked Roger in like a child. The medic kissed all 3 of them goodnight. 

At the same time in the operating theater Dr. Lancaster was picking all the surface glass and metal out of the musician. He glanced up at the x-ray to make sure he had gotten it all then took a fresh x-ray to make sure. “He’s got enough glass and metal to make a stained glass window.” the nurses chuckled. Poor John was white faced, EKG wires on his chest, an IV line in the crook of his right elbow, his left arm was already set. He’d been intubated and put on a ventilator to help him breathe during surgery. 

“Doctor!” the monitors began flashing as John’s heart rate increased exponentially. 

“He needs more blood!” 

**

That night Liz looked at the pictures of her friends on her bureau. “Goodnight, Freddie, Brian, Roger…. John.” sitting down on the edge of her bed she remembered seeing John brought in and he looked horrific. Just after they took the x-ray Liz had sneaked in, told John that she would be waiting for him, given him a kiss, then had to leave him alone. She buried her face in her hands, letting some tears fall but didn’t let that last for long. 

Liz was not a religious person by any means but she felt that a prayer was needed. She spoke a quiet prayer for her injured friends, adding a special one for John. 

The next morning Roger woke up and was gratified to see Brian was waking up. He and Freddie had been sleeping for almost ten hours straight. Freddie woke up not long after Brian did. 

“I don’t remember anything.” 

“I’m not surprised, guys,” Roger gave a little smile. “the two of you aren’t as bad as-” he stopped. 

Brian’s blue eyes opened wide. “As?” 

Freddie followed suit. “What happened to John? Roger! What do you know?” 

“Shhh! Don’t get yourself aggravated,” Roger tried to soothe them but he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Liz is talking with Dr. Lancaster now to get the updates. She’s also bringing you clothes as ours were pretty much destroyed.” 

“Liz will tell us everything,” Brian was confident. “she’s never held anything back.” 

That was what Roger was worried about. “Oh god!” he was sitting on the wide windowsill so he pulled his arms up and buried his face in his hands. 

“What is it?” Freddie snapped. “What are you not telling us?” 

“Wait for Liz.” was all he would say. Freddie looked like he’d rather jump up and throttle Roger outright for not telling the truth but remembered his ankle hurt too much and his head was throbbing from the concussion. Brian groaned a little bit from his own pain, keeping his head level with the rest of his body made it tolerable.

Liz arrived a few minutes later looking grim. “I just talked to the surgeon who tended to John last night.” 

“Surgeon? Surgery?” 

“Shh!” Brian said to Freddie. “You’d know if you pay attention!” 

“John’s in rough shape, guys.” Liz told them. “He had several internal injuries-”

“Give it to us straight!” 

“All right, Freddie! John sustained a chestful of glass and metal, he fractured some ribs, he broke his left arm in two places, he was impaled in the lower belly with a long piece of metal from the bus! Dr. Lancaster dug all the glass out of him then discovered he had some hemorrhaging. The good doctor told me that John actually coded because he’d almost bled out.” Liz sat on the edge of Brian’s bed, Roger came down from the windowsill and sat with Freddie. Freddie kindly put his hand on Roger’s as he could see his friend was visibly distressed. 

“Oh god!” Roger looked like he was about to keel over. “He.. I can’t say it!” 

“Coded is the technical word for the heart stopping,” Liz watched the other two turn white in the face. “his heart stopped a couple of times last night. He needed more blood. The good doctor dug out all the shards, got rid of the metal in his belly. I saw John in intensive care on my way up here. I don’t think you guys should see him. He looks bad.” 

“How bad?” Freddie nearly whispered. Roger put his arm around his friend. 

“He’s stable so remember that right now,” she warned. “John’s been having problems breathing so he’s on a respirator for right now. The surgery went pretty well all things considered. They are keeping him sedated for awhile longer until the breathing issue is solved. Dr. Lancaster thinks it’s just the anesthetics. The next several hours will be telling.” 

Brian wanted to hug Liz, but he settled for just putting his hand on her shoulder. “What do you think his chances are?” 

“If this breathing issue doesn’t resolve fast than I don’t think he has any chance, Bri,” every word was painful to her. “John’s very vulnerable as he’s trying to heal from his injuries and this is the prime chance for an infection to come in and finish him off. All it takes is one little slip up and he’s dead.” 

Freddie gestured to Liz, motioning her over to him, giving her a hug and kiss as Brian hugged Roger the best he could. “God almighty.” 

“I think I need to pray,” Liz wiped her eyes. “are you two officially discharged?” 

“They are.” Roger waved the papers. “You two get dressed the best you can and we can go down.” Liz produced her pocketknife, cut the wristbands off of them, then she and Roger helped their friends get dressed. Down to the intensive care unit on the main floor Liz reluctantly showed them what John looked like. The bassist had EKG leads, a blood pressure cuff, pulse oximeter attached to him and the monitor was about six inches away from him on the bed. The respirator was working well as John’s chest went up and down but everything that made John as a person was gone. 

They were used to seeing him animated in conversation, giggling, sleeping peacefully. John was so still, completely drugged up, just a shell of himself. Freddie was overcome as was Roger. Liz and Brian had to take them out to the waiting room. 

“What can we do for him?” 

“We can’t.” Brian said bluntly. “It’s all in the doctor’s hands now. All we can do is wait.” 

“Oh, Deacy...” Roger couldn’t say anything else. Liz put her hand on his back, trying to soothe him a little bit. 

“You guys are still hurt yourselves. Dr. Lancaster will call me if anything happens, God forbid. Let’s get you home so you can all rest up.” 

“Impossible for us to rest while one of us is in here.” Freddie muttered.   
**

Over the next day and a half everyone sat with John, taking it in turns. He was never alone as Freddie sat with him through the night, Brian did mornings, Roger did afternoons, and Liz did evenings. In the late morning John’s blood-oxygen rate dropped sharply, causing the nurse to call Dr. Lancaster. He came right up from the emergency department, examined John and had the portable x-ray come in for a quick image.

“Mr. May? John’s got what’s known as a massive hemothorax. His chest is in what’s called the pleural cavity. One of his broken ribs or a tear from the glass shards has caused a bleed and his cavity has begun filling up with blood. He can’t breathe properly at the moment and Dr. Lancaster is taking him to surgery right away.” a nurse told him. 

“Damn. Thank you.” he marched right to a pay phone and began to call Liz, Roger and Freddie.

Six hours later they all were in the surgery waiting room, hoping and praying that John would make it out of there and come back to them. Dr. Lancaster came out, gave them a good report as he’d mended the tear in the pleural space. 

“That’s good. Is he back in intensive care yet?” Freddie limped forward with Brian and Roger bringing up the rear. 

“Yeah. The really good thing is that John is off the respirator. We put him on a mask for now until he wakes up.” 

Liz was troubled by something but the band didn’t notice and neither did Dr. Lancaster. She thanked the doctor, waited for each of the boys to have their few minutes alone with John as they gave him encouragement. The three of them went into the cafe for a late supper to give Liz some private alone time with her ex boyfriend. 

“John, it’s me,” Liz knew he would hear her on some level despite being drugged unconscious. “I think I know what’s really wrong with you. Remember when we dated? I’m very spiritual and I’ve had the unsettling feeling that your soul or spirit is too tired to carry on. You get depressed like we all do; both of us and even Brian and Roger and Freddie have our bouts of depression over time. I know you were feeling depressed lately. You’re wondering if life is really worth it. To me and every one of our pals it is. I want you to hopefully decide that it is worth it and come back to me. You’re tired, babe, we all are, but do you really want to die now? All I want is for you to come back to us. Come back. There’s still a lot to do in this world and you’re not done having fun.” Liz leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Just come back to us.” she clasped her hand with his as the others filed in. 

“Working your spiritual magic?” Freddie teased. Everyone knew that Liz liked spirituality, practiced yoga and meditation. Brian sat next to her, noticing that she was wearing a small golden cross as a necklace. 

“It’s always important to have faith.”   
**

Two hours of talking and gossiping later Liz never let go of John’s hand. “you guys need to go back to the house and go to bed. You’re still all concussed and need your sleep.” 

“I think you’re right on that account.” Freddie hobbled up. “I can’t wait until the three weeks is over and my ankle is healed!” 

“Amen on that one,” Brian had his arm in a sling. “whatever happened to that trucker anyway?”

“He’s settling with EMI,” Roger spoke up. “the trucking firm is offering the record company a token amount but they’re going to court to get a reasonable amount to replace the bus, we’re getting reimbursed for all the medical bills.” 

“Good,” Brian kissed Liz and left, followed by Roger. Freddie stayed for a few minutes longer, brushing his friend’s hair aside from her eyes. 

“There isn’t anything we can do now, Liz. You should go home and get some rest.” Liz smiled a little bit as Freddie’s hand slowly slid down the side of her face. His dark brown eyes seemed to reading her gray ones intently, she thought. Freddie rolled his eyes. Liz was in spiritual mode and sometimes got a little touchy. Something was going to happen to John, but of what he did not know. He bade his friend goodnight and limped after his friends. 

Late that night when Liz was sleeping next to her friend, she was startled out of her sleep by a little movement. One bleary eye opened up to see that John’s hand was actively pressing hers back. “John?” she croaked, opening both eyes and looking up to see a calm pair of blue eyes that were barely open but she knew he was seeing her. 

“Hey,” he gave her a little smile. “oh, I didn’t realize how late it was. We have been at your side constantly since the accident. A very inept trucker broadsided the bus and caused it to flip. Roger, Brian and Freddie were all concussed. Brian has a dislocated shoulder, Freddie sprained an ankle, but Roger got off really easily with just a concussion. All of them have stitches. Oh John, you suffered the most,” Liz briefly outlined his injuries and problems. “you scared us so much.” a tear ran down her cheek which John released her hand, wiping it away. “No matter how depressed you get I want you to remember how invaluable you are to us. We could never find another one like you.” the tears she had been holding in fell thick and fast.

John couldn’t speak yet but his heart ached upon seeing his ex girlfriend in distress. It had been pent up for awhile and he wanted to hug her. 

“It’s been a bad week,” Liz picked up a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I just had that spiritual feeling that something was going on with you when you didn’t start getting better within the first day. Then I’ve had to tend to Roger a bit as he was the one that found you all mangled. We’ve all been traumatized.” 

John motioned Liz closer and he stroked her hair, looking worried about her. “Don’t worry about me, John. I want you to get better. As long as you’re all right I will be.” 

 

TWO WEEKS LATER

John’s recovery was uneventful which was a big relief to everyone. He was able to get up and move around which prompted his relocation to a private room. His arm was mending well, he could take a deep breath without it hurting him now, and he was able to stay awake for longer periods of time. There were no infections like Liz had feared which made them all very happy. 

Now John was visiting with his friends. The three of them were giggling and chatting away like usual, happy to be together again. Brian had been talking about his interest in astrology again, something John only found mildly interesting, Freddie had been taking the piss out of him, calling him a nerd, which made John start laughing. “It only hurts when I laugh, Freddie, so c’mon, take pity on the injured man here.” he pretended to look pitiful. “Where’s Liz and Roger?” 

“They are lying low at home right now. Liz had an asthma attack this morning and it was pretty bad,” Freddie informed him. “she scares us when she goes into an attack, you remember. It’s springtime with pollen and mold so she’s more prone to attacks.” 

John looked worried so Brian added, “But Roger’s home with her right now. She’s taken some Benadryl which always puts her out completely.” 

“I remember. The last asthma attack she had nearly put her in the hospital.” John shuddered. “I’ll be home soon.” 

“Actually you can go home today.” the nurse smiled at her patient as he consulted with the doctor about wound care which he declined, residing with a medic and Roger who had his certificate in first aid. 

**  
John was a little stiff but as he crossed the threshold he was so glad to be home. Roger welcomed him with open arms, careful not to make John’s wounds worse.

“Is Liz in her room?” he went over to the living room window to feel the sunlight on his shoulders. It was nice to see the little yard behind the house, the local birds at the feeder Liz had bought. All his hospital room had a view of was the public works building. 

“Yeah. She’s taken Benadryl for her allergies today. They got pretty bad this morning. She’s had attacks before; you’d think they stop getting so scary after awhile.” Roger answered. 

“It’s always scary but they’re reversible. Just gotta remember that.” 

“True. Liz knows how to head them off. Today the pollen got really bad so she called her doctor for advice. He told her to take some medicine and lie low today, that’s all. It’s a day by day kind of thing.”

“That’s the only way to go sometime.” John noticed Roger’s stitches had been removed though he still wore a bandage on his forehead, chest and hand. “I’ll go say hi.” 

Liz’s room had been kept dark so she could sleep off the effects of the drug she’d taken and she was sprawled out on the bed facing the door. John walked over to her, shook out Liz’s fleece blanket and covered her with it. She stirred as John knelt down, putting his hand on the side of her face very lightly. 

His hand had the desired effect-Liz always stirred when he touched her while she was sleeping. She opened up her eyes a little bit, enough to see that it was John near her. He was uncomfortable kneeling so he sat on the edge of the bed nearest to his friend. “John, you’re home..” Liz muttered, barely conscious of his presence. He put his hand on hers for a moment. 

“Shhh. And there’s no place like it.” he smiled as she relaxed and fell deeply asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Story 4

John/Freddie

 

“Hey Liz, did you see the way Freddie’s been looking lately?” Brian stood over Liz who was stretched out on a couch backstage. The guitarist was wearing his standard jeans and t-shirt with his guitar in hand, ready to go and rock the auditorium. Roger was stomping up the stairs to take his place behind his drum set while Freddie looked at himself in the mirror, fluffing out his hair. John, oddly enough, was nowhere to be seen.

The medic was wearing a long floral skirt, clogs and a white peasant blouse. She snapped her gum idly as she glanced up at Brian. “I did notice something about it.” Freddie did seem paler than usual lately, not that he would mention it or anything. He liked to hide his imperfections with a lot of makeup.

“Did you say anything?” Brian demanded, crossing his arms in an attempt to make himself more intimidating. Liz blew a bubble and popped it, completely unruffled by him. His eyes were momentarily distracted by the medic’s deep red lips. Liz liked to raid the makeup palette sometimes, trying out a new shade of lipstick. 

“Brian, you know what Freddie’s like. He’ll cut off one arm and still go on stage in order not to disappoint a crowd. I have to leave him alone until the concert’s over. There’s something to be said for showmanship.” she picked up her ponytail and took it out, shaking her black locks over her shoulder so she could recline back on the pillows comfortably. 

“Is this an unspoken agreement you two have?” 

Liz laughed as she picked up a magazine. “I don’t have to be an expert to know how Freddie will react. Tell you what: right after the concert I’ll have to hold him down and draw some blood so I can get tests run.” 

“You can do that?” 

“I can draw the blood and send it to an emergency room doctor with a description of the symptoms and recommend that a few simple tests be run.” 

“What kind of blood tests?” 

“I didn’t know you were interested in medicine, Bri. I’d recommend a simple blood count and comprehensive metabolic panel for starters.” 

“If it’s science I’m interested.” 

“Good. Hey, Freddie!” she called across the room. “The more you handle your hair the more oily it gets! You’re going to want to stop it!” 

“Really?” he knocked over a few makeup bottles as his vision wavered a little bit. Cursing under his breath he resolved not to let anyone know he’d been feeling a bit off lately. 

“Yeah, it’s fine! Go up and sing for your supper now!” 

“I’ll do my best, lovie.” Freddie picked up his mike and gave her a pretend arrogant stare. “Where’s Deacy?” 

“Let me go find him.” Brian went into the back room. 

John was in the restroom, leaning over the sink, trying to catch his breath. The flu had struck him a few days ago and while he was OK in the beginning it had steadily been getting worse. Like Freddie he ignored his illness while on stage, barely making it through, but tonight was going to be a bad night. The bassist had already succumbed to his nausea once so he had his roadie pick up some remedies which worked in various degrees. 

But you couldn’t delay the inevitable. After the concert he was going to be sick all night, he just knew it. John wiped his brow after he rinsed his mouth out and smoothed back his hair. He peered into the mirror intently, attempting to get his breathing back to normal so he could go out and play. 

“In here, John?” Brian opened up the door. “OK?” John jumped and turned to Brian, his breath hitched a little bit which made him cough. Shakily he tried to get himself under control so Brian wouldn’t ask any more questions. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he gave his friend a little grin. 

“We’re ready to go.” 

“All right, let’s go at it.” the two left the restroom as Liz settled back on the couch. 

**

At the concert’s close, just after the audience departed for the night, Freddie started feeling funny again. He replaced the mike back in the case, zipped it up, then was attacked by a feeling of dizziness when he stood up. The dizziness lingered, consequently he didn’t see Liz when she was right in front of his face. 

“Freddie? Did you hear me?” he had a funny zoned out look on his face like he wasn’t seeing her at all. 

“Liz.. there are two of you.. my worst nightmare has come true.” he tried to joke out of it but Liz frowned intensely, wondering what he was on about. She noticed he was two steps nearer to the stairs but in his disoriented state he was likely to go head over heels down them if he wasn’t careful. Her alarm was further raised when he took a few wobbly steps forward and missed the stairs completely. She reached out to try to steady him but missed. 

“Freddie, you’re going to want to watch where you’re going. Look out!” she reached for him but he saw the world flip itself upside down, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and everything went black. The medic sprang into action with her kit ready, taking the stairs two at a time, bounding down and kneeling at her friend’s side. 

“What the fuck is going on with him lately? I know this tour’s been brutal to us, but..” Roger was talking to Brian at the back of the stage when they heard Liz’s raised voice. 

“Guys!” both of them charged forward hearing Liz’s cry. They were joined by John who was coming from the direction of the restroom, then found the medic kneeling at the foot of the stairs that led offstage. “Help me out here, will ya? He took a fall and I can’t rouse him.” Freddie was lying on one side, eyes closed, his color was pale and drawn; they could see a faint pallor of his skin. 

“Damn!” Roger swore. “Shall we take him into emergency then?” 

“For a few hours, yeah. He’s got a big bump on his head and I want that checked out. Also I need to draw some blood.” John paled a little bit and turned away, trying to keep his nausea down and was successful for once. Blood usually didn’t bother him very much but tonight he wasn’t going to take a chance. 

“I’ll call,” he offered and hustled away before Liz fixed him with her medical stare. She’d been able to tell at a glance when he wasn’t well before and tonight would not be any different on that front. He didn’t want her to sniff out his illness before he was ready to take care of himself.

“Something up with John?” Roger brought Liz the first aid kit. “I knew Freddie was feeling the strain of the whole tour. It’s taking a lot out of us of course, but I didn’t think it went this far. Did you?” the blonde brushed his hair out of his face as he gazed intently at his friend. With a grin she handed the stethoscope to Roger, as he did like taking pulses and analyzing heart rhythms. Roger smirked as he put it on, putting the metal disk over Freddie’s heart. “Seems normal.” 

“Yeah, I was talking to Liz about it before the show,” Brian remembered. “she and I both noticed that Freddie’s been acting a little strangely.”

“It’s often times hard to tell,” Roger joked with a smile at Liz. She giggled and looked down, measuring Freddie’s pulse. “we all act weird during tours.” 

“Definitely true. We’ll be done for a few days so we need to get him back in fighting shape. We can always postpone a tour date if need be.” 

“The ambulance will be here in two minutes,” John reported as he came back. “poor Freddie.” his nausea forgotten, John got onto his knees beside Freddie, handing Liz an ice pack so she could ice down his injury. She accepted it gratefully, wrapping the pack around the knot on Freddie’s head as they heard sirens. 

**

At the emergency room, John glanced around him, reminding himself that he was much better off than the other unfortunate patients. There was an old lady with her husband, both of them were ambling slowly along the hallway, she was the patient, holding on to an IV stand while her husband was guiding her along, her hand in his arm. A little commotion near where Freddie’s room was made the others look up to see a raving drunk patient trying to escape the policeman who had brought him in. 

“OK here, the blood pressure is normal, pulse a little bit fast because of his concussion, oxygen saturation is a hundred percent which is excellent,” a nurse put the stats on the white board on the wall near Freddie’s bedside. “I need to draw some blood.” 

“I’ll do it,” Liz volunteered. “I’m an EMT.” 

“Good for you!” the nurse gave her a couple of test tubes, showed her where the supply was and left to check on other patients. Roger assisted Liz with finding a vein that would be usable thought it was a challenge. 

“He’s mildly dehydrated and I don’t think his veins have collapsed,” Liz spoke slowly, fitting the tube onto the pressure release pin. There was a click, a faint hiss, and Freddie’s blood welled up. “got it!” 

“His blood isn’t moving as fast as it should be,” Roger noted. “that means he’s dehydrated to some degree.” 

“Right on, Rog. You should have been a medic like me.” she teased, putting labels on the test tubes and running it to the nurse. 

“How long will it take to get the results back?” 

“They run these tests all the time so it shouldn’t take more than half an hour.” 

“Do you think he’ll wake up any time soon?” 

“No. He’s pretty run down and took a good whack to the head. We should go up to the cafe and get a late pizza.” Liz, Roger and Brian stood up. “Coming, John?” 

“No, I’ll stay in case the results come back early.” he volunteered, inwardly begging them not to pursue the matter any more. John was sitting languidly in a chair by the door to project the image that he was fine, but inside his stomach was rebelling a little more. 

“All right.” Brian put his hand on the small of Liz’s back to escort her out as Roger put his hand on the same place, playfully knocking Brian’s hand off of her. 

John’s inner battle with his stomach took up most of his concentration so he didn’t notice when 20 minutes later the nurse came back followed by a young resident doctor. 

“Oh, Mr-”

“Deacon,” they shook hands. “how is he?” 

“He’s got some dehydration, iron deficient anemia and he’s vitamin deficient.” 

“Oh. What do you recommend?” that was a lot to take in and he wished either Liz or Roger were there to translate but John tried to act like he understood most of those terms. Iron deficient anemia he did understand, having been cautioned about it himself from the tour doctors before they left. 

“He needs to drink a lot of water. I understand he’s a performer and when you’re running around under stage lights it gets very draining. It takes a lot of energy and stamina to do that.” 

“Yeah. I’m his bandmate.” 

“You know then,” the doctor smiled. “it’s best if you all have say 32 ounce water bottles and drink all of it twice a day. As much water as you can. It’ll help keep you alert. His vitamin deficiency is brought on by a lack of iron. For that I would highly recommend his diet be improved by dark leafy greens like spinach, some plant based iron is great. Eggs are a great source of iron. The other thing which he would benefit by is heme iron which is easier to metabolize. You get that by red meat.” 

“Freddie loves that stuff,” John admitted with a little grin. “his mom is responsible for that.” 

The doctor laughed. “He’s halfway there then! As long as it’s healthy he should have it. I understand you have a medic that works with you?”

“Yeah. She and my two friends went up to the cafe for a nice healthy late supper,” the irony was lost on the doctor but it would be John’s private joke. “they’ll be back soon.” 

“OK. Your friend should be waking up here any moment. Hopefully he’s awake before they get back.” 

“Are you holding him until he wakes up?” 

“Yeah. It would be better for us if he did, you know liability,” the doctor joked. “besides it’s nice to have a quiet patient tonight.” 

“What’s the deal with the guy brought in by the cops?” 

“He’s a notorious drunkard who often gets brought in here when he’s been out carousing. The nurses hate him and we can’t stop the rozzers from bringing him in even though he has no insurance.” 

“You get stuck with the bill?” 

“Yeah. We’re a nonprofit so the funds are limited as is. Anyway, Mr. Mercury should be waking up pretty soon. I’ll get the discharge papers ready. Nice to meet you, Mr. Deacon.” 

“Pleasure.” 

Sure enough a few minutes later Freddie started to rouse. John leaned forward as Freddie blinked a few times, eyes unfocused for a long minute. The cobwebs in Freddie’s head seemed to clear as he spied John at the foot of his bed. A dull pain filled his head, making him groan which alerted the bassist that his friend was alert. 

“Hey,” John edged closer to his friend. “How are you feeling now?” 

“I hurt.” 

“I’m not surprised. According to Liz you took a header going down the stairs and knocked yourself out.” 

“How could I have been so clumsy?” Freddie tried to sit up but John stopped him, placing his hand on his friend’s chest before he could try to rise again. 

“Don’t do that! You’ve got anemia, Freddie. You need more iron in your diet so you feel good. Don’t tell me you haven’t been feeling dizzy lately. I saw you weaving around on stage tonight. You also didn’t drink enough water so that plays a huge role.” 

“Yes, I know, mother,” Freddie mocked. “I need to slow down a bit. I don’t want to end up back in here.” 

“You don’t want Liz to ride your ass either.” John smirked. 

“God forbid.” a wolfish smile etched itself on Freddie’s face, momentarily thinking of Liz in a mildly indecent manner. John giggled, shaking his head a few times then instantly regretting it as a mild wave of nausea went through him but he was able to combat it. 

“Speak of the devil.” Roger, Brian and Liz opened up the door and came into the room, all three of them were giggling over a joke Brian had told but settled down as they saw Freddie was awake. 

“Hey hon,” she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “how are you doing now?” 

“Better. Rog, Bri, how are you doing? Get something good upstairs?” Freddie teased. 

“You’ll understand if I don’t get up and kiss you too?” Roger shot back with a laugh. “What did the doctor say?” 

John reiterated what the resident doctor had told him before Freddie had awakened. “Well damn there’s not enough chairs in here,” Liz stood by the doorway. “maybe I can grab one from the nurses’ station..” 

“Come here!” Brian grabbed her hips and parked her on his lap with a big grin on his face. 

“Someone’s feeling frisky tonight.” she would have thought he was Roger for a moment by the way he had a wolfish smile light up his features. “Roger slip you something in your drink upstairs?” 

“If he did I should thank him.” he said playfully. “I’m just in a good mood right now.” Brian’s eyes were lit up and Liz knew what it was. He hadn’t worked off the adrenaline high he got from performing onstage yet. Roger didn’t seem to have worked his off either as he was still in high spirits. The two of them must have made a scene upstairs but the hour was getting late so nobody else would have been there to witness it. 

“Oh boy,” Freddie muttered as the pain seemed to increase. 

“How are you doing?” Liz leaned forward from Brian’s lap. “I’ll ask the nurse to give you some pain medicine before we go. It’ll help you sleep too.” 

“All right.” the nurse came in, examined Freddie, then went to get something for his pain while Liz went over the discharge instructions. 

“I think this will be pretty simple. Eat iron rich foods, drink water, treat yourself right, etc.” 

**

Back at the hotel Brian unlocked the door with his key, turned on the light, then assisted Freddie into the room. The singer was flying high from the morphine he’d been given in the emergency room to everyone’s great amusement. Giggling to himself, Roger guided Freddie to the bed, made him take off his shoes, threw his pajamas at him and told him to change for bed.

“O-kay! I suppose I should get out of my pants!” Freddie stood up, wobbled, then leaned down, slowly taking his pants off one leg at a time. “I wanna be loved by you!” he flung his pants at Roger and began to hoist up his shirt, humming raunchy music under his breath. “Ready for my close up!” Freddie threw himself on the bed in his underwear with a giggle. 

“Oh god what now?” Roger was already in bed as Freddie started giggling again. He’d entangled himself in his pajamas; at one point he was trying to put his pants on over his head. 

“The devil? Roger!” 

The drummer straightened him out, put him to bed, told him to go to sleep and that was it. Freddie was snoring as Roger turned out the light. It was going to be a long night for him. Liz was going to come in a few times and check Freddie over for any delayed symptoms of a concussion but she didn’t think that he would have any. 

In the second hotel room Brian was already sleeping when John came to bed from the bathroom, having lost his battle with nausea again. The bassist got into bed and when Liz came in from checking on Freddie and Roger, changed into her nightshirt and sat on the edge of the bed to brush her hair. 

“Good night, John,” she said, touching her friend’s brow fondly but then noticed he had a heat rising from him. “you’re warm. Hang on.” 

The first aid kit to hand, Liz checked his temperature with a thermometer and noticed it was about 101. “That’s a fever albeit a mild one. John, wake up for me.” she set aside her tools with a clatter as she grabbed John’s shoulder, forcing him to turn over on his side so he faced her. John groaned but his eyes stayed shut. Liz pulled out the ibuprofen bottle and managed to give him a dose. “You’ve got the flu.” she wet down a washcloth, folded it and put it on his brow. “Have you been sick?” 

“Uh huh,” he murmured. “a lot.” 

“How many times?” 

“Three today.” 

“Ugh. Did you rinse out your mouth I told you to?” bile acid on the teeth would accelerate tooth decay. 

“Yeah.” the bassist was a bit sweaty. 

“OK. I’ll check on you in the morning. Feel better soon, sweetie.” John mumbled something and turned away. Liz put a small trash can lined with a plastic bag near John just in case he had another episode of vomiting again, then chose to sleep with Brian that night. 

Brian was on the edge of the bed so she had to get up and climb over him to get in. The guitarist grumbled for a moment then curled up next to Liz contentedly. 

**

The next morning Freddie woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows of the hotel room. He turned to read the clock radio which said it was 9 AM. Roger was lying on his bed, sound asleep from their adventure last night. Freddie felt all right mostly apart from some dull pain in his head. He remembered feeling dizzy, tired more than usual, then there was a sensation of falling, pain, then nothing for a long time. 

Freddie remembered vaguely Liz but her face had been obscured; he only heard her voice and nothing else. Roger and Brian had been there and so had John of course, but he didn’t remember much of their bassist; only John telling him not to sit up when he was in the emergency department. 

A key turned in the lock on the door as Liz peered her head in from the hallway. She pocketed the key, came in, shut the door and approached Freddie. Liz looked quite pretty today, Freddie thought. The medic was wearing a long flowing skirt with a pink and white floral pattern on it with a light grass green colored blouse. Her black hair had been held back with rhinestone barrettes, gold hoop earrings swayed when she walked, and she was wearing a necklace John had given her when they were dating. It was a simple silver chain with a pendant shaped and colored like a monarch butterfly. 

Liz glanced over at Roger who was dead to the world. She brought his covers up to his shoulders and gave him an affectionate kiss as he slept on. The medic took an ice pack out of the mini fridge/freezer in the corner and approached Freddie with it. 

“Glad to see you’re up,” she spoke quietly so she didn’t disturb Roger. “how do you feel today?” 

“Sore.” Liz put an ice pack over where it hurt, bending over him so he could deliberately see down her shirt. Pretending not to notice, Liz took a few extra minutes, asking him if he liked the view. “I’m getting better already!” 

“Shh! Don’t wake up Roger. He’s a bear when he doesn’t get his 12 hours of sleep.” she joked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Your pupils are equal, you don’t seem confused at all. You might be lethargic but I think that it can be easily remedied by a ice hearty supper tonight.” 

“I haven’t had anything good in awhile,” Freddie’s eyes lit up. “pressure of touring and to look a certain way..” 

“Do you mean to say that you haven’t even been having a proper dinner at night?! No wonder you’re run down!” she admonished him. “We will start you on the proper course of action with a hearty breakfast.” Liz ordered for him and herself, made sure he ate it all, and was satisfied with the end result. Freddie said he felt better and indeed he was losing the pallor that he’d had last night. 

“Go easy today. Rest when you need to. Brian’s going out to shop for an hour and if you’re up for it I’ll let him know.” 

“Not going shopping yourself this time?” Freddie teased as he slowly got dressed. “That’d be a first for you!” 

“Nah I’m not. My life doesn’t revolve around shopping, Freddie. Anyway John’s got the stomach flu and needs to be watched for a little bit.” 

“Deacy’s sick?” 

“Yeah. It turns out he had come down with the stomach flu a few days ago and didn’t tell us because of the tour. You guys need to remember that a tour is no reason to make yourself sick over it. I think the fans would be more concerned about your welfare as people first. You perform sick and you don’t give it your best so the fans get mad. There’s a balancing act here.” 

“I know that.” Freddie put on jeans, sneakers, and a red t-shirt. “I’m game to go with Brian if he wants.” 

“I’ll tell him. Roger, time to get up now,” Liz shook him gently. “what do I always say about a consistent sleep schedule?” he grumbled and swatted at her. “That doesn’t work on me.” 

“Oh, you’ve done it now!” Freddie mocked. 

“Get up, Roger. I know what to do.” Liz leaned in and gave Roger a kiss on the lips. The drummer woke up enough to receive the kiss, deepened it, then sneaked a hand under her waist, drawing her into his bed in one swoop. Liz broke the kiss as she laughed, Roger smirked, Freddie let loose his famous laugh as well. 

“Someone’s in a good mood today!” he boomed, picking up the ibuprofen bottle. 

“With a beautiful woman in my bed? Course I’m in a good mood!” Roger began to neck Liz which made her giggle. 

“I’ve got to get back to John, guys. He’s sick today and I want to keep a close eye on him.” 

“Nurse Liz! It would be unusual to see you out of your habitat,” Roger got up, pushing a pillow at Liz. She threw it aside, got up, then put her head on Freddie’s shoulder. 

“There are other habitats that I’m comfortable in,” she teased, putting her hands in the front pockets of Freddie’s jeans. “I like brushing up against it and giving a comfortable yank now and then.” 

“Don’t make me horny now or I’ll have to get you to jerk me later!” Roger took off his t-shirt. Freddie’s grin never left his face as Liz rubbed up against him for a brief moment. The singer knew that he was the one Liz would tease the others with if they were horny and he didn’t mind one bit. He usually got an enjoyable fondle in the process. 

“Jerk? Isn’t that a food from Jamaica?” 

“Come on then. I’m sure Brian’s waiting.” the two of them left the room as Roger got ready to take a shower.

**

When Liz got back into the room after seeing Brian off she could tell that John wasn’t comfortable by the way he kept tossing and turning, occasionally coming to his senses for a few minutes at a time. Liz sat on the edge of the bed near the pillows as she adjusted a fresh cold compress for his forehead. “Oh John,” she sighed. “I wish I’d known earlier that you were sick so I could help you more. Now look at you.” 

Liz thought for a long moment on how to help him more then dug into her arsenal of helpful supplements, a small travel case full of two ounce packages labeled with the correct vitamin or mineral. She selected a pouch labeled B6 and shook one out onto her palm. “Research says vitamin B6 can help with nausea so let’s give that a try.” she managed to get John to take one. “Any drug or supplement will require at least an hour to work.” 

Remembering when she was sick Freddie had gotten on the bed with her and cuddled her, Liz resolved to do that now. She climbed over John with a good book in one hand then situated herself next to him quietly. John sensed her presence next to him and turned on his side so he was facing her. Liz saw a little flash of blue under his eyelids as the compress fell off. 

“Curl up with me now,” she encouraged him, readjusting the compress so he would be more comfortable. “it’s all right, John.” he did so without a qualm.

Somehow Liz got the impression that John thought she was his mom. He didn’t say anything but the medic knew when people got sick they had a tendency to regress. John’s condition wasn’t serious at all but she knew he wanted comfort and the first thing many people thought of when they were ill was their mothers. 

It was natural and Liz was happy to stand in for John’s mom. She eased an arm around her sick friend, allowing him to bury his head in her chest as she opened up her book. If it was comfort he wanted he would get it. In the meantime Liz was happy to indulge in a classic book of fiction entitled The Last of The Mohicans that Brian had given her. Everyone knew how well she loved classic literature and had quite a collection at the house. 

The rest of the day passed by without an incident. Freddie, Brian and Roger went out on the town, went shopping, had fun, went on self guided tours, and of course sampled the local beer breweries. Liz read her book cover to cover, nursed John as he needed it, and before she knew it the sun was going down. 

“John?” she was about to doze off herself then remembered that John was right there, his head on her shoulder like he was listening to her heart. Liz glanced down at her friend, passing one hand over his brow which told her that his fever was broken. John stirred lazily, one eye slitted open so all Liz could see was a faint slice of blue. 

“Liz?” he coughed for a moment and blearily peered up at his ex girlfriend. She smiled and gave him a drink. “Hi.” 

“Yeah, hi. You’ve been asleep almost all day. How do you feel now?” she asked softly. 

“Better.” 

“That’s good. Your fever’s gone so I think you’re on the mend.” 

“Can I perform tomorrow night?” 

“If you lie low until then I don’t see a problem with it. Remember now you’re under my care and I have to sign off on whether I think you’re well or not,” she cautioned him. “just in case you try to force your recovery.” 

“Take all the fun out of life.” he pretended to sulk. 

“It won’t be fun if you collapse onstage, cause panic amongst your fans and get me into trouble with the studio.” Liz remarked. “Think carefully.” 

“Fine,” John’s gaze wandered to her chest where the butterfly necklace sparkled in the low light. “I forgot I gave you that. It’s my grandmother’s and she wanted me to give it to a special lady.” 

“Do I still qualify?” 

“You’re still special.” John kissed the part of her that he could reach which was her chest. Liz flushed a little pink as she reached for a water bottle to give her friend a drink. John took it gratefully, nearly inhaling it at one point. “I know what the doctor said about hydration.” he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, giving Liz the bottle back. 

“When did you first start feeling sick?” 

“Three days ago.” 

“And you never said a word, did you? You can’t give the people your best if you’re not at your best.” she sighed. 

“I’ll have to make that a mantra of mine,” John ruefully smiled. “what are you doing for tonight?” 

“Well, I need to hit the night life scene with the others. I’ve been cramped up in here all day babysitting you. Are you hungry?”

“Actually yes.” 

“A great sign. I think you should start with something light in case you get nausea again.” Liz ordered him supper as the other members of the band entered the room. 

“Well, look who’s awake!” Freddie smiled brightly. “How are you feeling now, Deacy?” 

“Pretty good. I had a pretty lady here to nurse me and keep me company.” he grinned up at Liz who was exchanging looks with Roger and Brian. 

“You guys are such smooth talkers. I’ve ordered John some supper and I will be going out with you wild guys for some dinner myself.” she climbed over John and nearly fell off the edge of the bed when Roger’s hands grabbed hers and kept her upright. 

“Yikes. Thanks.” he was such a good looking guy. Liz was partial to blondes with blue eyes and Roger didn’t help any. He was wearing jeans and a flowered jacket but nothing else on underneath which was fodder for her imagination. The medic stood up, straightening out her skirt and blouse. The drummer was eyeing Liz, mainly trying to see past her green top as she stretched out, giving everyone a glimpse of her slender belly through the shirt. 

“What?” she giggled. “You’ve all seen me naked. I have a great bod.” 

“That you do, m’dear.” Freddie offered her his arm. “Care to walk with us down the yellow brick road?”

“I’d love to, Cowardly Lion.” she teased. “We’ll be back to look in on you later, John.” 

“OK.” he agreed, picking up the TV remote. “Have fun.” 

**

After supper that night, Liz and the other three bandmembers wandered over to the bar. Liz loosened up her blouse, picked up a shot full of Jack Daniels, Brian’s choice of a drink, then put it in her cleavage to tease him with. 

“You take the shot with no hands.” she directed. If she thought Brian would back off she was wrong. He willingly put both hands behind his back, put his face right in her chest and did the shot. 

“What do you want me to do?” Liz sat on the bar top for a moment, taking some of Freddie’s preferred Smirnoff vodka and put the glass inbetween her legs. Freddie made a big show of tying his hands behind his back but he did the shot effortlessly. Roger was up on deck as Liz hopped off the bar counter top and took the bottle of tequila she knew he liked. 

“All right, now you my dear Roger, have to lick the tequila off my hand, lick the salt off my wrist, then bite the lime.” she took the salt shaker, doused her wrist and hand in tequila, then drew a line of salt on her wrist for him to lick off. Freddie and Brian glanced at each other then at Roger to see what he would do. It was well known that the blonde had a big crush on Liz but he was actually too shy to come forward and ask her out. 

Liz knew this that was why she was teasing him so much. Roger looked at her with a gleeful wide smile on his face. He seized her hand, tonguing it, then did the same to her wrist. The medic felt herself get aroused by how skillful he was. 

“Where’s the lime?” 

The medic, a little buzzed herself, showed him. It was lying on her left shoulder which he picked up in his teeth, managing to squeeze the juice onto Liz’s bare neck. Roger spat out the rind then went to town on her neck with his tongue, showing off to himself and everyone else. 

“Oh you’re good.” was all she said. Freddie and Brian laughed, ordering another round of shots as Liz ordered another one of her favorite drinks, a mojito. 

“What’s that like?” Roger received a taste. “Strong!” 

“Well evidently I have better taste than you!” Liz teased. “Come on, we should go. I’m not having you three get drunk before showtime tomorrow night.” they finished their drinks and went back to the hotel. 

“Let me check on John first.” the medic peered into the hotel room, walking up to John’s bed as Brian turned on the light. John had changed his pajamas, had eaten all of his supper, and he was quietly sleeping. Liz leaned over him, the butterfly pendant swinging and catching the light from the lamp. The guitarist grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, disappearing into the bathroom. 

“Sleeping like a baby,” Liz affectionately brushed his hair back from his face as she gave him a kiss on the lips. “goodnight, sweetie.”


	5. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz comes down with a cold while Brian's out of town visiting his parents. Freddie takes a turn nursing her, then John and Roger use a few home remedies when it's their turn to play nurse.

STORY 5

COLDS 

“So what do you say, Liz?” Roger threw himself on the arm chair in Liz’s room. “Want to go out tonight?” 

Liz had been lying on her bed reading a magazine with her head down. She raised up her head slowly so Roger could see that her eyes were a little red and her face was slightly flushed. The medic shoved her black hair over to the left side of her face so the drummer could see exactly how bad she looked in the low light. 

“What happened to you?” 

“I got sick last night,” she hacked deeply. “last night I woke up at 3 AM with stuffed up sinuses so I couldn’t go back to sleep.” 

“So that’s why you slept until 10 this morning. It’s not like you.” 

“Yeah I know. We have no cold medicine in the house and I wasn’t going out at 3 AM to get some.” 

“Why didn’t you tell one of us?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I think I’m going to stay in tonight and nurse my cold.” Liz groaned to herself and pulled her sweatshirt over her hands, having gotten a bout with the chills. Roger went to the door then turned back and looked at her briefly.

“If you weren’t sick would you have gone with me?” dodging the pillow thrown at him, Roger smirked and left her room, shutting the door and seeing John with Freddie in the foyer. “Guys, Liz is sick.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. She woke up at 3 AM last night all stuffed up and we’re out of medicine. So who wants to go to the club with me and get her meds?” 

“I’ll go with you to the club,” John volunteered. “Where’s Brian?” 

“He’s out visiting his parents this weekend. Freddie, I guess you stay here and nurse the sick one.” 

“Hang on just a second! She’s an adult and can nurse herself.” a raspy goose honk sounded from the next room which made the three men wince at the intensity. 

“Sometimes that is all it takes to bring on an asthma attack for her,” John said knowingly. “we can switch, Freddie.” 

“No, I’ll stay,” Freddie changed his mind. “I’ll walk down to the store and get some decongestant.” 

“Sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. I don’t like how she sounds. I’ve seen her have an asthma attack before and I hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“There’s an emergency number by the phone for you to call if she does have an attack.” Roger offered helpfully as they went into the kitchen. “Deacy, go get into some club clothes. They’ll all be open in about an hour.” John went off into his bedroom. 

Roger was already wearing leather pants, the band’s communal black peacoat with the white flowers all over it. He wasn’t wearing any jewelry, his hair was all loose and flowing. When John reappeared he wore black pants and a white collared shirt unbuttoned. Freddie appraised them, deemed them ready to hit the clubs, then he walked out with them to the car. He saw his friends off then walked down to the corner store where he bought some medicine for Liz to take. 

At the same time, Liz was sitting by the window, feeling a little depressed as she watched the birds playing at her feeder. It was a warm spring night so she was a little surprised to see thunderhead clouds moving in on the horizon. A faint rumble distracted her from her musings long enough to peer wonderingly up at the sky as the birds hastily departed the backyard. Squirrels ran for cover in the treeline as the sky quickly turned pewter gray. 

“I didn’t think that it would turn so quickly.” she muttered as she saw a flash of lightning in the distance. The medic felt a bit dizzy and decided that she had to lay down on the bed. Keeping her curtains open she lay on the bed with her head facing the big picture window Liz lazily watched the sky darken to black as rumbles started to get closer to the house. In a flash the rain started, pelting down droplets of water. 

“At least my flowers will be happy.” something hard struck the window and bounced off. Liz did not have to get up to know that it was hail. It would be a big thunderstorm if hail was already falling with lots of lightning. 

“Upon my word!” she heard Freddie exclaim as he made it back inside. “I could barely touch the door when it started raining like a bitch!” 

Liz did not reply as he knocked at her door. “Liz?” Freddie came in and made for the light switch.

“Don’t turn on the light! Come watch nature’s fireworks with me.” she invited. 

“Gladly. How are you feeling so far?” he put his hand on her forehead. “You’re a little warm.” 

“I feel it.” Freddie sat down on the bed next to her with one hand on her upper arm. “I’m always happy to have some company.” 

“I’m glad to be your company.” from his position he could see her in profile. Thunder shook the house, making him jump. “Damn! That’s right over us!” 

“Yes it is!” Liz’s enjoyment was obvious but her lungs would not tolerate it. She hacked a few times, wheezed once, then forced herself to settle down. 

“I trust your inhaler is nearby.” 

“On my nightstand.” he could see the small white rectangle. “I can’t get so worked up being congested. I’ll be more prone to attacks.” 

“I thought so.” both of them watched the storm which lasted nearly 20 minutes. The garden was piled thickly with hailstones as big as a chicken’s egg. All of the greenery looked pummeled by the intensity of the rain and hail as all the leaves and flowers were sagging down. Many of Liz’s prized rhododendrons were stripped of their blossoms, petals lying limply on the ground. 

“Is the storm over?” Freddie leaned forward but didn’t hear anything.

“Must be. Look.” the dark gray turned to black. “We missed twilight. Did the others go out clubbing?” 

“Yeah. They won’t be back until 1 AM.” 

“Figures.” Freddie tapped her shoulder. 

“I have some medicine for you, I almost forgot.” 

“Good.” Liz checked the bottles. “Let’s see, a cough suppressant and decongestant. I should take some aspirin for this mild fever I’ve got.” 

“A shower will help clear some of that congestion out.” Freddie helpfully turned on Liz’s humidifier, the low mechanical humming barely emanated from the machine. “You and I both get nosebleeds when it’s not humid.” 

“Yeah.” she took the recommended doses of medicine. “Mainly in the wintertime. In the summer it’s like trying to breathe through a wet blanket.” 

“I can imagine that.” Liz sat up, showing Freddie she was wearing her sleep shorts and an old black bra. He wolf whistled at her as she smiled and posed for him. 

“Did you miss supper?”

“Eh. I can’t taste anything anyway. Not hungry.” Freddie left it at that. He put the meds on Liz’s bureau in case she woke up during the night and needed more. The meds were supposed to be good for six hours but if her cold was really bad she’d need more of it. 

“All right, into bed with you.” 

“Let me brush my teeth first.” she disappeared to the bathroom across the hall for a moment then returned. Freddie picked up the covers and drew them back from the bed in a grandiose fashion, gesturing to her as she giggled. “All of a sudden you’re being my personal valet, aren’t you?” she teased. 

“Into the bed, madam!” she got in with a little giggle. Freddie pulled the covers up over her as she lay down quietly. “Do I have to read you a story?” 

“Hell no! What am I, four?” 

“Just relax now, Liz, and go to sleep. If you don’t mind I’d like to take a look at your library here. I didn’t realize you were such a bookworm.” 

“Thanks I guess.” she said no more, closing her eyes as Freddie sat down in her armchair and began to peer at her many volumes. He would not have guessed that she liked classic literature, from Alexander Dumas to Victor Hugo it was all there. She’d even read Les Miserables which was like fourteen books in one. 

**

A few hours later Roger was knocking back another screwdriver, remembering how Liz had taught him to do body shots with her. He missed her and wished that she was there so they could really have fun and get wasted but what else could you do when your friend was sick? There was always an underlying sexual chemistry between them which she’d only acted on once so far. He was the best she’d ever had, he knew it, but also knew that Liz didn’t want to become exclusively his. The drummer could see her point; keeping herself single was the best way to flirt with all of the band and keep herself independent of any man. Freddie was the most outrageous flirt of them all-smacking her butt all the time, making lewd comments, all of that. Roger was a bit more subtle but he’d openly gawk at her chest and smack her butt now and then. Brian liked making flirty remarks but didn’t ogle her physically. John flirted in his own way, putting his hands around her waist, his chin on her shoulder, then he’d look down and make a funny yet flirty remark. Once in awhile he’d come out with something outrageously lewd that would make the others do a double take.

Speaking of John, he was having a better time than Roger. He’d gone out to the dance floor with a young redhead and could cut moves easily. The drummer knocked back another shot and motioned for the bartender to top him up.

**

The next few hours were quiet for Freddie and Liz. She slept on, Freddie dozed off on her armchair, while another thunderstorm crashed and boomed overhead. 

Around midnight, Freddie was sound asleep on the comfy armchair when Liz woke up, the medicine having worn off. Her throat felt tight and she knew that another allergy induced asthma attack was on the way. The pollen index was high that night so no wonder she was in distress. Liz fumbled for her inhaler but accidentally knocked it down behind the bed. She had to get Freddie’s attention so she chucked another pillow at him. 

He woke up to hearing Liz wheezing and swore, jumping up. “Where is your inhaler?” she pointed as her vision was framed in blackness, meaning that she was going to pass out in less than a minute. 

“Got it!” he sprang up from the floor and handed it to her. Liz used it, welcoming the healing power of corticosteroids into her lungs. She shut her eyes, forcing herself to stop wheezing and take regular breaths. The medic accepted the medicine that Freddie gave her. 

“Better now?” she exhaled slowly and nodded. 

“I know your attacks never escalate to the point of the emergency room but they’re still scary,” he readjusted the blankets. “need some Benadryl?”

“I better not,” she decided. “I always wondered what it would take to make a nurse out of you.” 

“Don’t let that get out!” Freddie pretended mock outrage as she smiled. He resumed his position and dozed off in the armchair until he roused upon hearing the other two arrive home from the club.

“Hey guys,” he greeted them in the hall in a flash. “get any skin tonight?” 

“No. John got a hot lap dance though,” Roger teased his friend. 

“Oooh! Tell me later.” 

“How is that girl of ours?” John hung up his jacket. 

“She had an asthma attack about two hours ago.”

“She all right?” Roger started towards his friend’s room in alarm. Freddie didn’t bother to stop him, knowing that like the rest of them, he wasn’t going to be reassured with words. To Liz’s room he went, opening up the door and going to her bedside. 

The medic was sound asleep, not stirring as Roger came in, followed by John while Freddie waited at the door with his arms crossed. The drummer put his hand on her forehead, noting a slight fever and pinkness in her cheeks, but her breathing was even and regular, a very good thing. He checked the glands in her neck to make sure they weren’t swollen, giving a little smile in satisfaction. 

“She looks all right,” John noted quietly, taking Roger by the sleeve and bringing him back to Freddie, who was waiting for them with crossed arms. “time for bed.” 

“Don’t doubt my nursing skills!” Freddie mocked them in monotone as he shut the door behind them.

**

The second day of Liz’s illness she was tired of staying in bed and resting. Freddie and Roger had gone out so it was just her and John in the house now. Liz pulled on some loose cotton pajama pants, exchanged her black bra for a white one, threw on her navy robe and trudged to the living room. 

John was lying on the couch with a book in his hand about electronic engineering. He looked up as Liz curled up next to him so his arm was around her shoulders. 

“Did you take all your medicine?” 

“Yeah. What are you reading about?” 

“Transformers. You know what, why don’t I make you one of Freddie’s singing drinks? It’ll help keep your throat clear.” 

“My throat’s not the problem; it’s my nose. I can’t fucking breathe.” 

The wheels started turning in John’s head. “Hang on I have to get up.” he got up off the couch, went into his room and returned with a small blue jar. “This is homeopathic in a way. My mother swore by it when I had a cold as a kid.” 

“What is it?” 

John got onto the couch, snuggling up with Liz. He positioned himself diagonally on one end so he had full back support and Liz was lying against him, his arm went behind her shoulders. Her head was on his shoulder as he opened up the jar and put his fingers into it, bringing out a strong smell which made her sneeze. 

“This is menthol and eucalyptus,” John brought forth a silvery gob. “expose that luscious chest of yours.” 

“Oh, my pleasure.” Liz opened up her robe. “Give it to me easy; it’s my first time getting a boob hand job.” 

John started giggling as he smeared the little gob on her chest and began to rub. “This salve will set you right at least for a few hours. Your ample chest will keep it in for that long I think. Unless you want me to go lower.” 

“Go as low as you want.” she deliberately made her voice sound seductive which threw John off a little bit. 

“This might help too,” the bassist put a small gob in the crease of each one of her nostrils. “keep you breathing easier. I don’t want any asthma attack as I’m sure that you don’t either.” 

“True,” Liz exhaled slowly, happily sinking into a drowsy state. “I’m gonna fall asleep right here.” 

“You can if you like,” he offered, resuming his book after setting away the jar. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“OK.” Liz agreed, closing her eyes. 

John kept his arm around Liz as he turned pages and read his book, halfheartedly wondering if Brian would be returning the next day or the day after that. He’d taken his parents on holiday in Scarborough for a fortnight but would be coming back at the end of the week. John remembered that it was only Tuesday. Roger and Freddie had gone out with friends to attend some garden show which the bassist was not interested in. Liz loved flowers but she couldn’t go for obvious reasons. 

Without even realizing it, Liz had made John feel comfortable, secure and yet protective at the same time. He wanted to kiss her but didn’t want to get her cold so he pressed the top of her head to his chin fondly, dozing off as well.

Several hours later Roger and Freddie got back in, giggling to themselves as they headed towards the kitchen and raided the fridge for a six pack. The two of them looked at the scene in the living room, falling silent not to disturb their friends. 

“Look at that,” Freddie muttered. “that’s so sweet.” 

“Yep.” Roger felt a little envious of John at the moment. The bassist’s head was on top of Liz’s and both were dead to the world. Freddie crossed over to both of them, picked up the couch afghan, spread it over his friends and went back into the kitchen. “What are you making for supper tonight, Freddie?” 

“Whatever’s in the fridge.” Freddie didn’t really know how to cook at all so Roger was going to take his chances. 

John woke up to the sound of the TV being turned on then saw both of his friends sitting in the armchairs nearby with beers in their hands. 

“Good evening, sunshine,” Roger beamed at him. “how long you been out?”

“I’ve been out for what, three hours?” he rubbed his eyes. “I gave Liz some topical to alleviate her congestion and it definitely worked. I’m going to take her to bed.” John picked up Liz altogether, bringing her to her room and tucking her into bed. 

“Goodnight, Liz.” the bassist checked her fever by brushing the back of his hand against her forehead. “You look a little better already.” 

“John..” she opened up her eyes a little bit. “Don’t go.. I like having you here with me.” 

“I’ve got to go have some supper, Liz. I’ll check on you later.” he promised. 

**

“Hey Liz?” Roger poked his head in her doorway the following afternoon. “Feeling any better?”

“Some. I’ve still got a little fever to deal with and I’m plugged up.” she still sounded a little nasal.

“I’ve got a home remedy for that!” Roger brought her a mug that was filled with something strong. Liz peered at it but didn’t question Roger’s potent smelling brew. 

“What’s in that?” she took a drink of it and winced. “Damn!” 

“Strong, right? That’ll knock the cold right out of you!”

“But what is it?” Liz put aside the word search book she had been working on and sat up on the bed. 

“A hot toddy with some Jack Daniels in it.” 

“Wow!” she took another drink. “That’s what, 300 proof?” 

“Probably! Like it?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna take the shine off my teeth but I do like it. If it doesn’t get rid of my cold I’ll at least get drunk at the same time. Then I won’t care if I’m sick or not!” the whiskey had cleared out her sinuses at least temporarily. 

“Don’t guzzle it all at once,” he cautioned her. “you’ll get roaring drunk if you do.” 

“OK, OK. I’m feeling a little sleepy. Want to curl up with me?” 

“Sure.” Roger spooned her, they talked a little bit, then Liz fell asleep. Unlike John Roger didn’t fall asleep; he helped her finish off the hot toddy. Both of them were buzzing a little bit but Roger stayed with Liz while she slept for about an hour and a half.

**

“Well, John!” Freddie breezed in the door at 6 PM. “I’ve got everyone’s favorite-takeout!” he had brought home a pizza with the heavenly scent drifting through the house. John threw aside his electronics magazine and went to the table, snatching a slice out of the box and forgoing any plates. Freddie laughed as he gave his friend a beer. “No holds barred, eh?”

“’m hungry!” 

“Chew first, don’t bother to deep throat your pizza. It won’t appreciate it!” 

“Did someone say pizza?” Roger came out from Liz’s bedroom with her in tow. She deposited the empty mug in the sink where Freddie caught a strong whiff of it.

“Did you give her that godawful toddy you tried to make me drink?” Roger grabbed a slice like John, then wandered over to the couch as Liz did the same. 

“Thanks for supper, Freddie.” Liz politely said. “Roger gave me a toddy that had some Jack Daniels in it.” 

“And you’re tipsy, aren’t you?” the singer frowned at his friend. “That stuff can take the chrome off of a bumper!” 

Liz giggled as Roger smirked. Both of them finished as Freddie took the box containing the rest of the pizza and put it in the fridge. 

“I think that’s putting it mildly. It pretty much knocked the cold right out of me!” 

John leaned over, checking for any fever on Liz but didn’t find any. “I think you’re about ninety percent well.” 

“Oh I’m feeling something good.” the bassist caught a whiff of the medic’s breath. 

“God, you smell like Jack all right!” 

“Jack, who’s that?” Roger pulled Liz on top of him. 

“Oh, he’s this guy who comes around every Tuesday to service me..” she teased. “he knows how much I like it rough!” 

“I love rough stuff!” Roger French kissed her, then started necking her, softly biting her neck and adding a little more bite to it. “I shouldn’t do any more than that until you’re well.” 

“Mate, you could catch her cold now that you kissed her.” John reminded him.

“She’s past the 24 hour contagious people-period.” Roger waved off his concern. He and Liz frolicked a little bit on the couch, culminating in Roger giving her a hickey on the neck until Freddie had the idea to turn on the TV. 

**

Friday finally rolled around and Brian pulled up in his Jaguar. He was walking up the front path when he saw John sitting in the porch swing with his bass in hand, playing with some riffs 

“Hey Deacy, what is it today? Funk? Disco?”

“Nah, just some regular rock ‘n roll. We’ve had a strange week.” 

“How’s that?”

“Liz had a cold for most of it, Freddie wound up being her nurse through most of the week, I took a few turns then Roger did. I gave her a remedy for her congestion-you remember that salve I used on you when you were sick?”

“Yes I do.” 

“It helped her a lot. Freddie said she had an asthma attack the night those storms moved in while Roger and I were out clubbing.” 

“Is she OK?”

“Yeah. Roger gave her that horrible hot toddy remedy and she got a little tipsy. Matter of fact he helped her drink it so there was some sloppy making out until Freddie turned on the TV. Other than that it’s been uneventful.” 

“Well, good. Where is she?”

“I think she’s in the backyard filling her bird feeder.” Brian put his suitcase in his room then opened up the sliding glass door to the porch and Liz’s bird feeder right outside her window. She was wearing a yellow sundress with sandals, a straw boater. The medic filled the feeder and let the door swing down with a loud clunk.

“Hey, how are you?” the guitarist gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Feeling better?”

“I am. Our little week of hedonism is over-time to embark on tour again soon. Supper should be ready any moment.” 

“What are we having?”

“Bacon wrapped chicken thighs and some of that vegetarian garbage you eat.” Liz didn’t hold it against him but everyone loved to rib and tease Brian about it. “Come on in, it should be done.” 

“All right then. Do you still like Jack Daniels?”

“Not a chance!”


	6. Attacked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz and Roger have a falling out, then while shopping with John a few weeks later Liz gets attacked by an ex boyfriend. John tries to save her but is injured himself in the attempt.

Story 6: Attacked

John/Liz 

 

At the afterparty of the concert, Liz saw that Brian was sitting down at one of the tables, leaning back and watching a stripper perform a number. She joined her friend, sitting next to him while he gave her a look that clearly told her that he was rock hard and ready for a fondle. Liz just smiled and rolled her eyes at first then Brian nudged her with an expectant look in his eyes. 

“Still want me to jack you, eh?” the medic teased, running one hand down his inner thigh. 

“Yes I do.” he put his hand on top of hers, sliding it up so she would be able to feel just how ready he was. 

“Should I sit on your lap or beside it?” 

“You can sit on my knee.” she sat on Brian’s left thigh then immediately got to work. Brian didn’t need any encouragement at all and Liz knew what he liked so she was completely quiet about it. Freddie walked by in the back; in the half light of the party room he could make out Liz’s hand busily at work. Smiling to himself as he signed various body parts he knew that Brian would be stumbling towards him with a satisfied grin later on. 

John and Roger were busy imbibing drinks as the night wore on; neither one of them noticed Liz giving Brian a hand job under a table. The two musicians were talking up a storm with record producers, a few of the strippers taking a break, and some radio deejays. John noticed one of the strippers had a black curly haired wig on which reminded him of Liz’s hair and she was built like their medic as well. He sighed to himself, regretting the fact that he had let Liz go. 

“All right, mate?” Roger noticed his friend’s wistful expression as the stripper went back to work.

“Yeah, I’m OK.” 

It was all for the better, he had to remind himself. Liz could flirt with any of the band that she wanted to and that included him. Freddie usually took it too far; sticking his face in her chest was something that John would classify as too far, but as long as Liz was happy and comfortable with them he wasn’t going to care too much. 

Roger wandered nearer to the stripper performing, noting that a certain curly haired head was ogling the woman. Another head was near to Brian’s and as Roger watched Brian let out a muffled groan, the drummer heard a “Holy fuck!” and a moan. He didn’t have to guess at what the two of them were doing at all. Roger didn’t know why he was surprised; Liz could jack any one of them if they were horny. 

“I think that’s worked well for you, didn’t it? Good thing I had a tissue.” Liz’s voice drifted to his ears. She stood up as Roger heard a zipping sound, then turned to notice his friend throwing away a tissue in the nearby garbage can. 

“What were you doing?” Roger stubbed out his butt in an ashtray as Liz turned to face him. 

“Hey Rog,” she greeted him happily. “I just helped to get Brian off. He was really begging me for it.” 

“Was he..” Roger muttered, his face darkening. “you’ll get any one of us off, won’t you?”

Liz glanced at him sharply, her eyes turning black in the low light. “You got a problem with that?”

“Well, I guess I do,” he retorted angrily. “I think you need to just stick to taking care of us when we’re sick or hurt. I think the hand jobs or blow jobs should be left alone!” 

“You need to keep your nose out of my business, Roger Taylor!” the medic lashed out, stung by his remark. “You’re implying that I’m a whore!” 

Before he knew what he was saying the drummer blurted out, “You’re acting like one so I guess you are!” 

Liz reeled back with her mouth open, disbelief in every inch of her face. Roger flashed her another angry look then walked away. “Oh my god,” she buried her face in her hands. A hand was on her arm in a second, making her look up to see who it was. “it’s just you.” 

John looked like he wanted to ask who she thought he would be but chose not to. “What’s going on?” he had been walking towards Roger to ask him a question when he saw Roger say something angrily to Liz, the shocked expression on her face, and the drummer walking away in a huff. The bassist put a hand on his friend’s shoulder as a comforting gesture. Liz glanced at him and smiled. 

“I need to speak to you and Freddie. Outside.” 

“Sure, let me grab him.” the two friends hung around outside while John and Freddie lit their cigarettes, waiting for Liz. The venue alleyway was dim from the streetlight, smelling of garbage and gasoline. The medic put on her winter coat, opened up the door, casting a glance behind her to see if Roger was anywhere near. Seeing the coast was clear she opened up the door and stepped through. 

“Roger’s being a complete and utter dick,” she slammed the door behind her, stepping away from the dumpster. 

“What did he say this time?” Freddie squinted in the low light at Liz. Sometimes the drummer got moody and snarky but they were all used to it. The singer knew that Roger would have really said something stupid to get Liz angry with him. She was very laid back just like John and to a degree like Roger. 

“It was so out of character for him. He heard that I jacked Brian off and got all mad, calling me a whore.” 

“Roger did that?” John exclaimed. Freddie looked similarly shocked. “He adores you, Liz!” 

“I know that. It’s so unlike him. There’s got to be something else going on but I don’t know what it is.” she worried, twirling a lock of her curly hair around her finger. 

“We need to keep an eye on Roger,” Freddie decided. “if he’s going to act this way towards you then we will have a problem.” he draped his arm around her shoulders, touching her nose with his affectionately. Liz smiled but without much humor in it. John and Freddie both knew that Liz was the type of person to vent her frustrations on anyone who would listen so they would know of any new developments in the Roger-hates-Liz tantrum. 

“I’d like to say that I can look out for myself but he’s so unpredictable right now.” Liz shivered as a few snowflakes began to fall. 

“It’s snowing!” John looked up with childish glee in his eyes as the snowflakes whirled in the air, landing thickly on his hair and jacket. 

“I’ll bring Brian up to speed on all of this.” Freddie offered, opening up the door. 

**  
Two weeks of Roger ignoring Liz came to pass then. It was early December with a hint of Christmas in the air. Freddie and Brian had gone to visit their families; Freddie insisted on taking Roger with him to distract him from Liz. The singer knew that Liz was hurting because of Roger’s attitude so he wanted to spare her from the drummer for awhile.

“Well I say that crosses another one off of the Christmas list,” Liz sighed as she came out of a store with John. They had supper in one of his favorite restaurants and now they were out Christmas shopping. He put an arm around her as they continued to walk on the sidewalk towards the place that he wanted to hit next. The bassist had offered to let her tag along while he Christmas shopped just to get her out of the house for awhile. “where do we go next?”

“There.” he indicated a clothing store and began to walk but a stranger obstructed their path.

“I knew it was you, you dirty whore!” 

“Oh shit,” Liz paled up considerably in the low light. “it’s my abusive ex, Daryl.” 

“Oh great..” John muttered. 

“This is who you replaced me with!” Daryl was rather short with mismatched eyes and gave off the aura that he was ready to get physical with them. John put his hand on Liz’s shoulder, firmly telling her nonverbally that she had to step back. She complied, not wanting to provoke Daryl in any way. 

“You bitch! My life has been a complete and utter hell-”

“You make your own decisions! You’ve been after me to blame your shortcomings on since the day we met! I refuse to be intimidated!” she spat out angrily. “You gave me hell when I wouldn’t submit to all your bull shit and physically abused me.” Daryl got very close to her but she wouldn’t back down. 

“You goddamn bitch! I’ll see to it you rot in hell for the way that you treated me!” Daryl moved so suddenly neither John nor Liz ever saw it coming. 

All John remembered was hearing Liz scream and fall; an explosion of bright lights and stars danced in front of his eyes as the bassist dropped to the ground, feeling a strange warmth. 

**

Bright lights, red lights infiltrated John’s vision next. For some reason he was lying down and feeling very lethargic. Wanting to get rid of the bright light in his eyes he tried to push it away, then realized someone had been looking into his eyes with a penlight. 

“What’s your name, sir?” the scene wavered in front of his eyes. He barely saw Liz next to him, blood streaming from a head wound. For some reason he felt like he couldn’t walk, talk, or move. 

“John Deacon,” blackness pulled his eyelids shut. “that’s Liz Hammond.” 

“I know Liz. We’ll put her in good hands. As well as yourself.” an oxygen mask was put on John’s mouth and nose. He wanted to take it off but didn’t have any strength to do it; his muscles wouldn’t obey what his brain was telling them to do. 

Some time later the bassist roused, sluggishly opening up his eyes a little bit and saw Brian sitting next to him. The guitarist saw John’s green eyes open blearily with no comprehension of how he got there or what had happened to him. All the bassist knew was that the mask covering him was off for which he was glad. 

“Hey, John,” Brian’s calming voice helped to wake him up a little more. “nice of you to join us.” 

“Hi. What happened to me?” there was a dull throbbing pain in his head and one in his side. The one in his side hurt more but he felt like he could live with it for the time being. 

“Well, it was a case of wrong place and wrong time,” Brian began. “from what the bobbies say you and Liz were out shopping when an ex boyfriend of hers who’d been stalking her turned up. He said everything an abusive ex would say then proceeded to assault you both. The guy gave you some bruises, a concussion, lacerations, and what they called a grade 1 trauma.” 

“What do you call grade 1 trauma?” why in the hell couldn’t he focus his thoughts, he wondered. His head felt muddled as he tried to concentrate on what Brian was saying. 

“The smaller the numbers the less severe the trauma is,” Brian said importantly. “anyway you have a small laceration on your spleen from the encounter and you bruised several ribs from when that asshole apparently head butted you against a brick wall.”

“What happens to me next?” he felt a faintly itchy sensation on his forehead and knew that was because of a bandage. I must be a pathetic sight to see, he thought. 

“They are going to observe you for a few more hours, x-ray you again and if you show no signs of bleeding I’ll take you home.” 

“Where’s Liz?” he winced as some mild pain hit him but it was nothing compared to what he’d had before. Brian noticed but continued to speak.

“Liz is in surgery.” 

Blood drained from his face and he would have tried to get up and find a doctor if Brian hadn’t stopped him. “She got stabbed, John. It’s actually not that bad-the blade didn’t hit any vital organs, just nicked a blood vessel and they will stop the bleeding. They’ll keep her here for a few days then she can come home.” 

John relaxed back a little. “You make it sound like a sure thing.” 

“Hey,” Brian cuffed his friend on the shoulder. “it will be.” 

“Positive thoughts. Where’s Freddie and Roger?”

“On their way. I had just gotten home when I got the phone call. The fact that you awakened fairly early-you’ve only been in here half an hour is a really good sign.” 

“I guess so.” John agreed, glancing at Brian hesitantly. “I just really hope that Liz is OK.” fatigue pulled at his eyes, trying to lower his lids down but he fought it, doing his best to pay attention to Brian. The guitarist just smiled for a moment. 

“You’ll be feeling drowsy for awhile so it’s OK to try to sleep. I’ll keep you informed. Are you in pain?”

“Not really. I have a little pain from my side now and then but I’ve had so much worse.” 

“I remember. Go to sleep.” 

“All right. I hope Roger doesn’t give Liz a hard time.” Brian rolled his eyes at John’s remark but he was worried as well. The temperamental drummer had been giving their friend dirty looks yet refused to talk to her at all. It hurt Liz deeply that he would treat her like that and Freddie had tried to talk to him about it but Roger wouldn’t listen. Even Brian’s words had no effect on him whatsoever and John didn’t even try to talk to him, knowing it would be useless.  
**

An hour later Freddie and Roger came into the emergency department, finding Brian who was standing at the nurses’ station, asking for some pain medicine for John. Freddie marched over to his friend with Roger in tow, both pale faced and looking apprehensive. 

“Hey guys,” Brian led them to John’s door just as casually as if they were meeting in a pub. “John’s in here.” 

“How is he? Darling, how are you?” Freddie nearly flew to the bassist’s side. John opened up his eyes, giving him a little smile, then gave Roger a friendly nod of acknowledgment. The bassist saw that while Roger was concerned for him he also appeared to be acting indifferent towards Liz and her situation. 

“I’m all right, Freddie.” he and Brian filled in the other bandmembers on what had happened. “From what I hear Liz is already out of surgery and doing quite well.” 

“That’s the shortest surgery on record I’m sure.” Freddie said, impressed. 

“It’s because she didn’t have any other injuries and the follow up x-ray says nothing else is wrong.” Brian said mildly, eyeing Roger who looked completely indifferent to the whole subject. Freddie gave him a sideways look, trying to see if Roger was concealing his feelings but he couldn’t tell. Brian met his gaze and both friends mutually decided to keep off the topic for now. 

Roger had been giving Liz the cold shoulder for several days and it had put a considerable strain on the band since then. They had been ignoring it mostly, leaving the drummer to his own devices and Liz had been a pro at ignoring Roger completely, though she had given him a few icy looks of her own. He didn’t know where she was able to come up with such looks but they made him feel very unsettled. 

Over the next several days the four bandmembers kept an eye on John and Liz. John had been discharged within about four hours of being in the emergency department; there was no sign of a ruptured spleen or any further bleeding so they let him go with a list of symptoms to watch for. The next day Liz had been showing such good progress on her recovery they felt it was OK to let her go home. 

“Well there’s no sign of any infection or bleeding, so you will be good to go home,” the doctor proclaimed as he surveyed her incision site. “I know you have good home care with the four queens so I’ll see you back in two weeks for wound care.” 

“That’s one way to call them.” she said, amused by the doctor’s wittiness. Freddie and John were ready to take her the second her discharge paperwork was done. 

“Come on now darling,” Freddie crooned. “shall I put your short skirt on now or later?” he held up her denim skirt that was about mid thigh length. 

“Maybe you should go get a wheelchair so we can take her out,” John suggested, sending the singer on a hunt while he assisted Liz in getting dressed. 

“You’re such a gentleman, John,” he took his time, sliding her skirt on, never making her feel uncomfortable or anything. The bassist threaded her arms through her shirt like she was made of glass, making Liz happy that she had him in her life. She buttoned up her flannel shirt without help, slid on her tights and snow boots, then stood up with John’s hand on hers. 

“All right?” he watched her expression change to one of mild pain. 

Once standing Liz had to fight the urge to sit back down. Standing stretched the skin which held the stitches in so it was very uncomfortable for her. The medic would not be able to walk far without help at that point in time. John could swear her face turned gray for a few moments then it vanished quickly. 

“It’s too uncomfortable to stand right now.” she admitted, biting her lip. 

“That’s OK. We’ll wait for Freddie.” he was about to sit her back down when Freddie arrived with a wheelchair, making a beep beep noise playfully. The singer braked the chair, made Liz take John’s and his hands, guiding her from the bed to the chair sweetly. 

“Now, how fast would you like us to go?” Freddie shoved the lever up off the wheel, took a hold of the handlebars and left the room with John keeping pace. 

“Just get me home alive, Freddie.” 

“That’s why I have John here my dear.” Freddie laughed as he steered them both down a hallway, into the lift, then down to the main floor. Since Freddie didn’t drive, John got into the car, brought it to the entrance, then opened up the door for Liz. The two of them helped her into the car, Freddie quickly returned the chair, then both of them made sure that the medic had buckled up. 

“So what has Roger been doing? He still mad at me?”

“Roger’s being unusually quiet,” John admitted as he shifted gears. “usually he’d be here as he loves to drive but he’s been holed up in his room the past two days.” 

“His conscience is working on him,” Freddie leaned closer from the backseat. “I’m sure of it and he’ll wind up apologizing before long.” 

“We shall see about that.” Liz remarked carelessly.

**

“There’s no place like home,” the medic sighed happily as John pulled up in the driveway. “hi, Bri!” 

The guitarist opened up her door and took her hand, guiding her out of the car. “Glad to see you’re in one piece. The last week has been hell without you.” he kissed the back of her hand. “where would you like to go?” 

“Put me on the sofa.” Brian put his hands around her shoulders, walking her to the living room with John, Freddie brought in her overnight bag. She sank down with a grateful sigh, accepting the ready made tea Brian offered her, then shouted to the others that tea was ready. 

“Oh goody!” Freddie bounced into the house, accepted the offered full teacup and sat down. John accepted his as Brian knocked on the door to Roger’s room. 

“Coming, Rog?”

“Be out in a minute,” the drummer came out of his room, hair unkempt and in yesterday’s clothes. He sat down in the recliner, taking a few pulls from the teacup as Brian handed Liz an ice pack from the freezer. She adjusted her position, shoving up her shirt a little bit so she could put the ice pack on the surgery site. It rapidly numbed her wound which made her much more comfortable. Roger gave her a glance when he knew she wasn’t looking, seeing that she had lost some of her color since the attack. 

“Tell me Freddie, what kind of song are you working on now?” Liz asked as Freddie moved her legs up, sat down, then put her legs in his lap. 

“Let me show you.” he produced his notebook.

While the two of them perused Freddie’s songwriting notebook, John sat on the other side of Liz, smiling as she snuggled against him the best that she could. Roger picked up a magazine, tossing Brian the latest edition of an astronomy periodical as well. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that!” Freddie teased, lifting up Liz’s legs. “Put your charming head in John’s lap!” 

“Is that OK, John?” 

“You’re the one recovering from surgery; you have free reign.” he graciously offered, sticking a pillow in his lap so she was propped up. Liz sank down happily, one hand keeping the ice pack level with her wound. 

“Did they stitch you or give you staples instead?” 

“Take a look for yourself,” Liz removed her bandage, showing Brian, Freddie and John where they went in. “isn’t that neat?” her wound was about three inches long and fastened shut with staples. 

“That’s where he stabbed you?”

“That’s where the fat fuck got me, yes.” she agreed quietly to Freddie’s question.

“What do you remember?” Brian was kneeling on the floor to examine her injury. 

The medic had a dark look in her eyes as she tried to recall exactly what had happened. “I can’t remember much of anything, Bri. All I saw was a flash of light then I was down. John tried to prevent me from falling but Daryl struck him hard and he fell on top of me. I knew I was bleeding and then,” her voice wobbled a little bit. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to die. At least not without saying goodbye to you guys.” 

Brian and Freddie’s hearts went out to their friend as John gave her a hug and a kiss. Freddie was next, giving Liz a sweet peck on the cheek and the muttered words, “Darling I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“Me too.” Brian kissed her as well, taking one hand. Roger peered at them from the magazine, trying not to be obvious at the scene in front of him. He saw how Liz’s eyes teared up, her voice grew a little thick and without even realizing it his own eyes became misty. It didn’t dawn on him that his friend could have lost her life that night. 

Ex friend, he amended, turning a page.

**

Liz’s first day back from the hospital was uneventful. She was able to walk around enough to be self sufficient without anyone’s help, though she tired easily and was prone to catnapping on the couch or in her room. The medic curled up with Brian on the couch that morning, reading some scary stories to distract herself from her pain and ended up dozing off on her friend. Brian put his arms around her, feeling very protective while she was vulnerable. 

That afternoon Liz had been sitting in front of her picture window in her room to watch the snow fall amid the cardinals when John knocked on her door. 

“You’ll freeze sitting like that,” he shook out the afghan at the foot of her bed and spread it over her shoulders. “how are you feeling?” 

“Not bad. Apart from the discomfort in my side I feel pretty good.” the bassist sat down with her on the chaise lounge, watching the snowflakes dance in the breeze. John said nothing for several minutes until he noticed she was starting to doze off again.

“You falling asleep on me?” he teased. 

“Oops,” she yawned. “I have to rebuild my strength, John.” 

“It’s all right. We’ve got some time to kill today. You slept on Brian for about half an hour already today. Are we your pillows?”

“Of course. I’m so comfy and I feel so safe with you guys.” her eyelids drifted closed. John picked up her volume of paranormal literature and began to read a chapter while the snowflakes fell thickly outside.

**  
“Take it easy,” Freddie cautioned her that night as he brought her the medicine she needed. “don’t try to rebuild your stamina too fast or you could burst your staples.” the singer measured out her doses needed and gave it to her along with a water bottle. 

“That’s always on my mind. It’ll be another 3 weeks before I turn into some semblance of normal.” she took the medicine without a thought. 

“Brian, John and I are going out on an overnight with some of our friends,” he sat on the edge of her bed. “will you be all right here alone with the asshole Roger’s become?” Freddie couldn’t really believe that Roger kept turning a blind eye and deaf ear on his friend ever since she gave Brian a hand job that night. The drummer always scowled in her direction now, scorning to touch her or do anything even remotely connected with her. The singer wanted to deck Roger more than once but John wouldn’t let him, knowing that would escalate the situation. 

“Of course. I’m getting stronger and I won’t need him around to help me.” Liz asserted, wrapping herself in a fleece blanket. 

“Just as long as you’re comfortable. Don’t take anything Roger says personally.” 

“Freddie, I’m a big girl now.” she admonished. 

“I still worry.” 

“I’ll be all right. With any luck we would have mended our friendship before you get back.” 

“Hope springs eternal.” Freddie kissed Liz goodnight, wishing her good dreams. 

In the hallway the singer passed by Roger who openly sneered at him. “Tucking her in now? I guess you’ve become like her dad.” 

“If I were you I’d quit while I was still ahead,” Freddie growled. Roger wisely backed off, knowing it would be an insanely bad idea to try to get on Freddie’s bad side. “she’s injured and scared, still dealing with nightmares about the whole situation and you turn your back on her. How about you pull that stick out of your ass?”

Roger took Freddie’s advice and didn’t say anything else, closing the door to his room.

**

The next day Liz awakened around 9 AM, just in time to see her friends off, leaving her with an apparent ex friend. Roger went outside into the garden and filled up the bird feeder, wandering off into the snowy woods for the morning. He must have had a lot on his mind, Liz mused. She pulled on a pair of track pants, clogs, and a V neck long sleeved shirt. 

In the bathroom Liz stood in front of the mirror, lifted up her shirt and gently pulled the bandage off of her wound. It had taken her a day or two to get used to changing the bandage by herself; the first few days either Freddie or John had helped her out with it. Now changing it was no problem at all; the nurse had reminded her about wet-to-dry dressings or bandaging while in the hospital. 

Liz dampened a piece of gauze under the tap, wrung it out thoroughly, then held that against her wound while reaching for a dry piece. The dry piece would help keep the moisture in and encourage new skin growth. She tore off a strip of surgical tape, held both pieces securely, then taped them down. Liz used a sticky square of tape so her bandage was completely sealed up until she removed it the next day. 

“All right.” she wondered how Roger was going to sidestep her that day. He’d been ignoring her but now they were alone together he might actually have to break his vow of silence. 

Most of the day Liz spent on the couch, reading a volume of HP Lovecraft. “Most of these stories have too much detail,” she muttered, turning a page. “so roundabout and not to the point!” 

Roger came inside around lunchtime, taking off his wet jacket and hanging it up in front of the heater. He sneaked a look at the medic who was lost in her book, scowling to himself when without looking she gave him a little wave with her hand. Liz was being cheeky again which irritated him further. 

Stalking to his room Roger shut the door and sat down at the edge of his bed in a sulk. Before he left John had informed Roger about the fact Liz had begun having disturbing dreams. 

“What is that to me?” the drummer flippantly asked. 

John had given him a firm glare. “If we’re not here and she has a nightmare you will deal with it like an adult. We’re helping get her through a traumatic period and the trauma is going to manifest itself in bad dreams. I want you to comfort and support her.” 

“Fine.” Roger had replied in a neutral tone. 

The rest of the day had passed without any incidents. Liz did light housework, took a short nap, read more of HP Lovecraft, then wrote more in her diary. At one point she left her diary open on the coffee table then went back to her room to get one of her pens. Roger had sat down on the couch for a moment to tie his shoes and he looked down at the paragraph she had written. 

“Since I got hurt the others have been so supportive and comforting of me. All except Roger who has this grudge against me since I jerked Brian off when he was horny. It was just a quick yank and I don’t see what his problem is about it. I jack him off all the time, the same with Freddie and John. Anyway, Freddie says that I’ve been having bad dreams which I sort of remember when I wake up but they’re so vague. He’s been sweet enough to soothe me like the others and unfortunately Roger has excluded himself from me. What he seems to forget is that like the others I love Roger dearly and will always love him. Him distancing himself from me when I need him the most is a very selfish and unkind thing to do. I miss him so much even though he’s right there.” 

Roger tied his shoe and got up, looking outside the window for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts together. The drummer heard Liz coming back into the living room so he went back into his room in order to try to make sense of what he felt. 

**

Late that night Liz couldn’t sleep so she took a sleeping pill the doctor had prescribed for her. Roger was still in the living room watching TV and it would be an hour before the pill had any affect so she pondered joining him in the living room but decided against it. The medic scribbled away in her diary for about 45 minutes before her medicine began to take any affect at all. 

Roger woke up to find the clock was just chiming midnight. He turned off the TV, turned out the lights, then walked to his room wearily, then stopped. There was a light on in Liz’s room which he knew was odd; she usually crashed out around 10-11. 

“Weird.” he muttered as he opened up the door. “Liz?” forgetting his apathy towards her he entered her room to find the small lamp on her nightstand was on and her diary was shut this time. Roger turned the light off then leaned over Liz to see that she was having dreams. She looked very restless and was sleeping uneasily. 

“Liz?” he laid a hand on her arm which awakened her a little bit. 

“N-no! Oh god!” fully alarmed now Roger sat on the edge of the bed with genuine worry for his friend evident. “Roger!” 

“Liz! Liz, calm down or you’ll burst your stitches.” he spoke in a low voice.

“D-don’t leave me, R-Roger!” her voice wavered. Roger couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been behaving like an ass and knew it. Time to make nice. 

“Liz, wake up!” it took a few tries but the drummer managed to rouse Liz. “I had a hell of a time waking you up! Did you take something?”

“Yeah,” her eyes focused and she finally recognized the voice. “oh, Roger. Come to yell at me again?” 

“No! Look, I’ve been a complete jerk, all right? I let my frustrations out on you. I know you jack us all off when we need it but a lot of things were bothering me that night and I vented the wrong way,” he told her, stroking her hair. “I’m really sorry, Liz.” 

“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “you didn’t mean to.” 

Roger frowned as he brushed her forehead with his fingertips. “You’re a little warm. Did you change the bandage today?” 

“Don’t think so..” the drug was starting to pull her back into unconsciousness. 

“I’m going to check on that for you. Go back to sleep.” Roger pulled the covers off of her, rolled up her shirt where her wound was, then pulled out the first aid box from the dresser. He donned plastic gloves, took the bandage off, then swore as he saw the site was starting to get red and puffy. “Shit, it’s infected.” the drummer carefully found where the pus was oozing from then pressed down on it to evacuate all of the pus. When he couldn’t get any more to come out, he applied a fresh bandage and cleaned up. 

“Sweet dreams, Liz.” Roger brushed a kiss on her forehead. He turned to leave and go to his room but it didn’t feel right leaving her alone as hurt as she was. Roger changed into his pajamas, then went back into Liz’s room and got beside her in the bed. She snuggled up against him as comfortably as she could get while he closed his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry for being such a dick.” the drummer spoke low so he didn’t disturb her rest, moving her hair away from her face. 

**

The next day Freddie, John and Brian came back from their overnight with their friends. All of them had been nervous at leaving their injured friend home alone with Roger but trusted Liz implicitly that nothing would go wrong. She was skillful at getting people to do what she wanted with minimal manipulation but it would take considerable skill at getting Roger to admit that he was wrong. Freddie was particularly curious to see how Liz would manage the situation. 

“The house is still standing,” Brian glanced around, not seeing Liz or Roger anywhere. “let’s check her room just in case.” 

“Good idea,” John agreed. “I wonder how this plays out.” 

“Me too.” the three of them hightailed it over Liz’s room where a wonderful scene met their eyes. 

“I’ll be damned.” a smile lit up John and Freddie’s face as Brian peered in above them. 

“Isn’t that sweet.” a rare open mouth smile stretched itself on the guitarist’s features happily. 

Roger and Liz were still sleeping; he had her in a front to back hug, his hand around her side protectively. The medic looked very comfortable and secure in Roger’s arms as they slept on. Freddie picked up the fleece blanket and spread it over them both. 

“I don’t know what she did but it worked. Roger was in a right funk before we left.” 

“I know, Brian. Liz has magic.” John agreed. The two friends slept on, oblivious to their friends’ return.


	7. Poisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger sprains his ankle, John gets drunk and falls through a shower surround, injuring his right arm in the process. Liz, suffering a relapse of depression, becomes poisoned and falls into a coma.

Chapter 7: Poisoned

Liz/John/Roger  
Three weeks after the debacle at Liz’s great uncle’s house the band had noticed that there was a definite change in their friend/medic. One night on the tour before showtime, John, who was the best at tuning into Liz’s emotions, shot Freddie a look from across the room. The singer was applying his makeup at the counter when the medic came in, sitting on the arm of the couch and letting her gaze stare off into space. Roger and Brian noticed her withdrawal a bit as well but neither said anything. 

John sat down on the armchair, pulling Liz into his arms. “are you doing all right? I know it was hard on you.” Liz had developed a habit of staring into space at times, looking distracted since their experience at the house. The bassist noticed and meant to ask her about it before now but he never had the time. John noticed she was wearing blue jeans with small rhinestones on the back pockets which made her butt shine. 

“Having a demon pushed out of my wazoo does tend to make one question their own sanity,” Liz told him sweetly, making him giggle. “but I put that behind me now.” she’d had a few recurring nightmares of the incident but never said anything about them. Fortunately now they were touring again her nightmares had waned some; sleeping in a bed with any of the band comforted her greatly. It was when she slept alone, even if it was just a nap on the couch, made her nightmares come back. Freddie had seemed to notice this; Liz was always catnapping because of the tour schedule and now he hadn’t seen her take a nap at all which was unusual. 

“I think we’ve all recovered more or less from the foray into demonic possession.” Brian paraphrased it well. “In the meantime how about we just make some music?” he wielded his guitar up high as he slid the strap on over his head. 

“What a grand idea!” Roger jumped up and followed his bandmates into the stage. John kissed Liz on the forehead, Freddie chucked her under the chin affectionately with his smile lighting up his face. She could always count on her friends to make her smile. 

**

When the performance was done for that night Roger was standing up from his drum set, getting ready to walk down to the stage. What the drummer hadn’t noticed was that the stage was very slippery because of a light rain that had happened around intermission. Freddie was not happy about that so he alternated between sitting and playing the piano for the second half and standing still on the stage. Roger had forgotten about the rain and as soon as he stepped center stage down he went. 

“Oh fuck!” he swore, clenching his eyes shut at the pain that ripped through his ankle. “How the fuck am I going to get up? Brian! Liz! John! Freddie!” 

“Do you guys hear something?” Freddie turned from the makeup mirror. “Sounds like Roger.” 

“GUYS!” Roger bellowed the loudest he was capable of. “I need help here!” 

“He’s in trouble again.” Brian led the way, followed by John and Freddie. “Liz! You’re going to want to be here.” 

“On my way,” the medic grabbed her bag and hightailed it up to the stage. “yikes, slippery city!” 

“Be really careful,” John took her arm as he slid a little bit. “we should get some bumper cars up here to play with.” 

“That’ll come later. What happened, Roger? You forget the stage is wet?” 

“Yeah. I was coming down to you guys when my foot went out from under me.” Roger was lying on his left side with his bad foot right under him. Freddie and Brian knelt down, adjusting him so that his injured ankle was lying out straight, Freddie had Roger’s left side propped up so he could see better. 

“Shit happens,” Liz said nonchalantly as she put her bag down. “did you hit your head?” 

“No. I landed on my back which fucking hurts.” he was actually a little gray in the face from the pain. 

“Right. I’m going to need to manipulate your ankle here. Curse at Freddie if you want.” 

“Hey!” Freddie pretended to be indignant as Liz only smiled. Brian propped Roger so he could sit up as Liz examined his ankle. She made a couple of manipulations with her hands, causing Roger to cry out in pain and turn towards Freddie so he wouldn’t see what she was doing. The singer clasped a reassuring hand on Roger’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“Careful, mate,” Brian adjusted Roger. “you’ll fall off the edge of the stage and wind up in a body cast.” the drummer shuddered as John handed Liz a few items from her box. 

“Fuck me.” Roger clenched his fingers at his side, eyes shut from the pain. 

Liz rolled her eyes as she took out an elastic bandage from the kit. “We will take you downstairs and check to see if you can put any weight on that ankle.” 

“By we you mean us, right?” Freddie teased with a glint in his eye. 

“I mean you and Brian carry Roger. John gets to carry me.” she mocked, locking up her tackle box and shuffling towards the stairs. “I feel like I’m on fucking ice.” the bassist locked hands with Liz, both ambling along the stage at a slow pace. Liz rubbed John’s thumb with her own as a way of saying thanks. He leaned down into her field of vision to give her a little smile. 

Somehow they all managed to get downstairs into the green room without incident. Roger was put onto the couch where Liz made him put his hand on her shoulder as he tried to put weight on his leg. The others sat on the couch to watch Roger and see if he could do it, Freddie and Brian looking worried but John was fairly neutral. 

“I can do a little bit!” Roger huffed, standing up. “I do not want to use those support things.” 

“Well, try walking then.” Brian and the others watched him ambulate for a moment. “I didn’t think the term of pussyfooting would be applicable here but I was wrong.” he teased his friend. 

“Oh fuck off!” Roger was able to make it to the door. Liz saw him take most of his weight on his good leg then take about twenty percent of his weight on the bad leg. He was pretty skinny for his height and she didn’t think he would have a problem keeping up without crutches. 

“All right, Roger. I won’t make you use crutches,” she told him. “as long as you’re comfortable like that I won’t stand in your way.” 

“Pun intended?” he sat down in a chair as Liz checked the elastic bandage, rewrapping it slightly so he could get his shoe on. 

“Nope. Happy accident.” grinning, Roger got himself up from the chair as the others left the arena. 

**

Later on that night John had a few drinks downstairs at the hotel bar, humming to himself, weaving through the hallway back to the room that he and Roger shared along with Liz. Roger had demanded that she sleep with him the previous night so now it was John’s turn. With a slightly drunk grin on his face, John opened up the door to see that Liz had left a note-she was down at the hotel pool, and Roger was nowhere to be seen either. 

John decided that he was drunk and wanted to take a shower to sober himself up so he stripped down, got into the shower and began to clean up. He heard Liz come in from her workout in the pool, then when he reached down to grab the soap he lost his footing and crashed through the plate glass wall shower surround. 

“Holy fuck!” Liz shouted, jumping up and running into the bathroom. “Roger is lame, what the hell is happening to you, John?” she sidestepped the broken glass, grabbing a towel, wrapping it around her hand and arm to protect herself, then swept the mess aside. John moaned as Liz disposed of the broken glass properly, threw the towel into the dirty laundry bin, then concentrated on him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No. I’m a little tipsy.” 

“Sure,” she wasn’t going to argue. “this tour has been a lot of trouble so far.” the medic box came out, Liz made him sit up so she could see where the glass was and dig it out. 

“This will wake you up.” she marshaled him out into the bedroom, checked his back for glass, then made him lie down faceup on the bed. Determined to get all the entertainment she could out of John, Liz mounted him, sitting on his waist as she leaned over him, digging out the glass shards in his upper chest and right arm. 

The voices of Roger, John and Freddie drifted closer so Liz prepared herself for the onslaught that was to come. Grinning to herself she winked at John, who was in a liquor induced stupor. Looking up from her patient she locked eyes with Roger first off as he opened up the door. 

“Couldn’t you lock the door before you do that?” he hobbled to his bed and lay down on it. Freddie’s grin lighted up his whole face as Brian started smirking. 

“My clothes are still on.” she dabbed antiseptic on the bassist’s wounds. “Brian, could you aim that flashlight over here, please? I need to see to get rid of this glass.” 

“Sure thing,” he picked up a high powered flashlight, sitting on the bed next to Liz and John, focusing the beam where she wanted it. “What happened?” 

“Oh come off it, Roger! You think a locked door is going to stop you?” Freddie sat down in one of the vinyl chairs looking very amused as Liz picked the glass bits out of John’s chest and arm. Brian handed her tweezers, noting some big chunks that had a bit of blood in them oozing out. 

“What happened to Deacy?” 

“He went through the shower surround. He’s a little tipsy.” she put antiseptic into one of the deeper wounds, the sting of it barely registering in John’s mind. “Be a dear and hand me that surgical tape, Bri.” 

“Gladly. This is been quite a performance-both on and off stage.” he said dryly, watching Liz fish out all the glass bits and put them in an empty paper cup. 

“Liz, do you really think it was necessary for you to get John drunk before you shag him?” 

“Oh Freddie, he’s the easiest to tank up and get wasted,” she sassed him back. “For you it would take all night-I don’t have that kind of time!” 

Freddie didn’t reply but looked very pleased with himself. Brian handed Liz some gauze for the few deep wounds, giving her a hand as John started to protest a little bit. Privately he was enjoying the attention Liz was giving him, faintly becoming aroused as it sank in that she was sitting firmly on his pelvis, leaning and reaching a few ways in order to administer to him. The medic noticed that he was half hard but said nothing. 

“Should we leave in case this turns into a porno movie?” 

“Oh god Freddie, not in my room!” Roger turned pink in the cheeks as he clutched at a pillow. 

“Would it make you feel better if I sit on top of you later on?” Liz laughed, chucking a pillow sham at the injured drummer. Roger turned red and didn’t reply. The medic continued her job, picking out the last bit of glass from John’s muscles, bandaging the site off. Brian admired Liz’s handiwork on his friend as she got off of John, dusting off her hands. 

“Show’s over!” Freddie moaned. “I wanted to watch this live action porn get under way!”

“It’s not porn, Freddie,” Brian gave his friend a playful swat. “you think she’d want to fuck John in front of all of us?” 

“I would!” 

“Too much information!” Liz’s voice drifted to them from the bathroom. “Good night, boys! Roger, I’ve got some painkillers so you can sleep.” 

“Oh goody,” Roger hated drugs but reluctantly chose ibuprofen as the others left the room, calling goodnight as they went. “night, Liz.” 

“Good night, hon. Feel better tomorrow, all right?” she gave him an ice pack so he’d be more comfortable. 

“Thank god for you.” Roger said sincerely.  
**

The next afternoon Liz was out walking with Brian and Freddie doing a little shopping, taking tea in a cafe across from the hotel, then accompanying Freddie to an art gallery. Brian and Liz were not into art as much as Freddie was so they hung back a little bit as the dealers began talking art to the singer. 

“I have no idea what they see in-ew, what’s this?” Liz found something smeared on her fingers. She got it off with the help of Brian’s tissue he passed her, then they both left the art gallery. 

“I just wanted life to go back to normal after the debacle at Charlie’s house,” Brian was telling Liz as they crossed the street back to the hotel. “I’ve had nightmares about that place and I wonder if you did the right thing by keeping it.” 

“Sometimes I wonder too. Remember, Bri, my newfound financial freedom works for me. Ben’s the caretaker when we are not there, I let my brother and sister know that they can spend some time up there if they want. Anyway my family’s mausoleum is on the grounds. I would not feel right about letting the place go with my flesh and blood interred there. I see myself like a guardian for them.” 

“I can see that,” Brian agreed. “how is Ben anyhow? We’ve been touring for what, three weeks?”

“Something like that. He’s fine. I gave him some money in stocks to sell or trade, etc, so he can expand his business if he wants to. I’ll get a letter or two from him sometime I’m sure.” 

“That would be nice to hear from him,” Brian seemed to waver in and out of focus for Liz as they entered the hotel room. John and Roger were gone somewhere for the day and Brian was about to ask Liz if she wanted to catch a movie with him when he noticed she was looking distracted again. “what is it?” 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “my health is fine and yet I’m wavering all over the place and seeing double.” 

“Did you hit your head?” he made her sit on the bed while he checked the pupils of her eyes. “Your pupils are a little dilated.” 

“No. I never hit my head.” 

“This could get serious.” he pressed Liz. 

“I know, Bri, but one of the most important things to do right now is something called watchful waiting. I observe my symptoms and note anything out of the ordinary for me.” 

“Just keep us informed of all that’s going on with you, OK? John and Roger are hurt, we don’t need you to get sick as well. Sure you’re not pregnant?” 

Liz laughed, throwing herself on the bed. “I haven’t had sex since before the demon fucked me, Bri. I don’t need that kind of attention.” 

“You’ve got better self control than we do.” 

“Thanks, Brian.” she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “I have that book Freddie gave me to read so I’ll just do that for now.” 

“I’ll check back in on you later.” he promised, leaving the room. 

Liz began to read some of Bram Stoker’s Dracula but didn’t get very far in it. She had to stop just after Dracula’s three female vampires harassed Jonathan Harker and shut her eyes for a long moment. 

Visions assaulted her as soon as she fell asleep. Liz found herself in a dark room with demonic voices talking to her in her head. She was pinned back on a table then she felt her pants sliding off of her and a coldness drifted throughout the room. Helpless, Liz saw a pale face with glowing red eyes sliding its fingers all down her front, long claws cutting her clothes off and leaving her completely naked. 

Welcome to hell, a voice told her. 

**

Roger and John returned from their outing, Freddie finally came back from the art gallery and Brian was sitting in his room reading a sci fi novel on astronomy. He couldn’t concentrate too much on the book, frequently finding himself distracted about Liz and his mind wandered a lot to her and what was going on with her this time. 

“Where’s Liz, Bri?” Freddie chirped happily, managing to snag a painting at the gallery for an inexpensive price. “Let’s head out for a late supper!” 

“She wasn’t feeling too well. She should be in her room.” he stood up and led the way. John unlocked the door, opening it up and seeing Liz was asleep in her bed. 

“Hang on a second,” the bassist leaned over Liz, running his hand against her cheek. It was barely warm to the touch which triggered an alarm in his mind. “she always responds to when I touch her, even when she’s asleep. This isn’t right.” 

“What do you mean?” Roger asked, walking up to John’s side. “She doesn’t look right; she’s so pale.” he leaned down, brushing his fingertips against her forehead. “She’s cold!” 

“Something’s wrong.” John called Liz’s name several times and got no response. “Look at that.” 

“What is it?” Freddie leaned in as John turned the side of Liz’s face, noting how it turned too easily. 

“She’s pale.” Roger picked up Liz’s hand, checking her pulse which felt the same. “Her pulse is normal but she’s not responding to us.” 

“You’re right,” Brian and Roger nodded. “I think that we need to take her into the hospital. Unresponsiveness like this could indicate a big load of problems.” 

“Yeah. I’ll get the door.” Freddie stood beside the heavy oak door as John picked up Liz easily from the bed. Roger grabbed her ID, Brian grabbed the notepad where she’d noted her symptoms earlier in the day. 

“It’s not like her to scare us like this.” Roger shut the door, ambling fast down the hallway to keep up with his friends. 

In the hospital Liz was installed in a private room, doctors intubated her and drew quantities of blood. The band sat down in uncomfortable chairs, John and Freddie having drawn theirs up closer to the bed with their hands on Liz’s hands. The bloodwork was taking at least an hour to process and return results, the nurses were very nonverbal which made them wonder what was going on. 

Three hours later a doctor knocked at the door, announced herself as Dr. Kendall and reviewed the test results. “Ms. Hammond here has a raised white cell count. I need to run another test to confirm my suspicion.” 

Brian hated it when doctors talked in riddles. “What do you suspect?” 

“I think the bloodwork will agree with me that your friend here has been poisoned.” the doctor said with an air of arrogance about her. 

“What are her chances?” 

“Well Mr. May, I think that her chances are on the slim side. You noticed that she isn’t responding to external stimuli which means that the poison is unusually slow or very diluted in nature. If we can figure out what the poison is we can treat her accordingly. Is there anything Ms. Hammond would have touched recently that was on the unusual side?” 

“She got some gunk on her fingers at the art gallery,” Brian remembered, handing his tissue to the doctor for her to test. “after that she started feeling funny.” 

“This will be the clue to the mystery,” the doctor’s eyes lit up. “I will get started on this.” 

“Why isn’t she responding to us?” Roger demanded before the doctor could leave.

“Let me just check on something,” the doctor bagged the tissue, tucked it into her pocket, then examined Liz’s pupillary response to the penlight that was shined in her eyes. “absolutely no reaction. Unfortunately your friend here is in a coma at the moment.” 

Everyone in the room paled at that diagnosis. “What can we do, if anything, to help her?” 

“You can talk to her. Research says that coma patients can hear the people around them. Has she suffered any sort of trauma lately and become depressed?” 

“She’s been through a lot lately,” the demon and the haunted house came to mind though John didn’t say anything about it. “she’s had a failed pregnancy.” 

“Oh my gosh,” the doctor empathized. “poor thing.” 

“I never noticed a hint of depression though.” Freddie interjected. “I suppose it’s always possible.” 

More possible than anyone would think, John thought to himself, remembering he’d seen Liz in her quiet moments with her mind in faraway places. It was definite to him that she was depressed yet she never talked about it, laughed and carried on like usual. 

“In the meantime I think we just sit tight and wait.” Roger spoke forlornly, putting his bad ankle up on the footrest of the chair. 

“That’s all we can do.” Brian put his face in his hands while Freddie gripped Liz’s limp hand, inwardly praying that his friend would get better.  
END PART 1


	8. Poisoned part 2

8: Poisoned part 2

Liz

 

“Liz,” the creature with the red eyes and dark green face spoke. The medic was shackled to the wall medieval style, her body covered with cuts and bruises with her hair limply in her face. She was too tired, too weak to even lift up her head from where it hung limply down towards her chest. Liz’s eyes were closed, not caring at what the demon wanted to do to her next. 

“Come on now, Liz,” an unfamiliar voice coaxed her. She summoned up her remaining energy to lift her head and see the creature was gone. The dungeon scene disappeared around her and she found herself blinking at total whiteness so stark she had to close her eyes again. “open up those pretty eyes now.” 

Groaning she opened up her eyes again, knowing that the voice wasn’t going to leave her alone until she did. A very different scene met her eyes. She was lying on a king size bed in light blue sheets in a big and airy room. 

“Much better!” the voice sounded different, more familiar to her now. She turned her head to see Ben lying beside her with a big smile on his face. Liz had forgotten he was about as tall as Freddie, dark hair and mischievous deep blue eyes-even more blue than Roger’s. Ben was wearing regular blue jeans, sneakers and a blue and white ring necked polo shirt. “Welcome to limbo.” 

“How long have I been here?” she shut her eyes, willing the fuzzy feeling in her head to go away. 

“About two hours. You’ve been suffering some pretty bad dreams lately, haven’t you?”

“Gotta appreciate someone who cuts right to the chase. Where’s John and the others?” she had to shut her eyes momentarily at the brightness of the sun peering through. 

“They are around your bedside at the moment.” 

“So how did you come to be here with me?” 

“There’s a deeper tie that binds both of us, Liz. You know what I mean.” 

“Charlie.” 

“Yeah.” Ben took her hand fondly. “We are friends, Liz. I think he intended for us to become friends.”

“Does that mean you’re like me too?”

“You’re in a coma right now,” the real estate agent told her frankly. “I’m not. I’m simply asleep in bed.” 

“What am I in a coma from anyway? Why can’t I get this fuzziness out of my head?”

“You were poisoned, Liz. It was by accident and the fuzziness you feel is the residual effect.” Ben put his hand on the side of her face which produced a calming effect for her. “Your mental health since the demonic debacle has suffered a lot and I know you’ve been suffering nightmares and it’s been tormenting you.” 

“Yeah.” when she slept alone the nightmares came in very fast and thick. “It goes away when I sleep with the guys.” 

Ben did not think this was unusual in the least. “Sometimes it takes another person’s presence to soothe us enough to sleep quietly without nightmares. Freddie once told me that you and John were friendly ex partners, so to speak and you still have that kind of bond with him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. John still fancies you.” 

“So does Roger.” her eyelids were starting to close down. 

“You don’t have the same kind of bond with Roger that you do with John. Right now your spirit is very tired and you need rest,” Liz turned on her right side to face Ben properly. He reached over and smoothed her hair back from her face. “sleep now so your spirit can heal.” 

“Right.” her eyes closed and she was soundly asleep in less than thirty seconds, not noticing the fact that Ben had put a fleece blanket over her prone form. He gave her a peck on the cheek sweetly, muttering good night.  
**

“Any change?” Freddie came into the hospital room with a mug of coffee he’d gotten from the nurses’ station down the hall. Brian and John had retired to the hotel to get some sleep; Roger was sitting uncomfortably in a chair with an ice pack on his ankle. 

“Not that I can tell.” the drummer looked a little pale from hardly any sleep that night. “The doctor’s not done running tests yet.” 

“Those can take awhile to do.” Freddie had a full night’s sleep amid his anxiety about Liz. Roger had spent the whole night with her, hoping that she would rouse from her coma but it didn’t look like she was waking up any time soon. 

“Oh my poor girl,” Freddie clucked as he sat down opposite Roger. “I know it was an accident, love, but you have to come back to us.” his tanned hand found her pale one, clutching it to him as the other hand clutched the coffee mug. “Why don’t you go back to the hotel and sleep, Roger? You look pale as well.” 

“I don’t want to leave her alone.” 

“I’m right here, darling,” Freddie gave his friend a smile. “you think I’ll let anything happen to her?” 

“No, but I just want to be here when something happens.” 

“Nothing will for at least half a day. Go to the hotel and get some rest. That ankle of yours won’t heal unless you do.” 

“Right.” Roger’s resistance was low so it didn’t take a lot of badgering by Freddie to get him moving out the door and back to the hotel room. Once he was gone the singer sat on the edge of the bed, playing a bit with Liz’s hand. 

“Perhaps with a little music we can entice you to come back.” Freddie pondered on what song would be most appropriate for the situation. “I can’t think of one!” he admitted to himself ruefully, taking another pull at the coffee mug. “Maybe I should compose a new song for you.” 

Sometimes it took Freddie months to get a tune just right, sometimes all it took was ten minutes. There was no way to make music other than singing and he didn’t know what to sing so it was time to get creative. Fortunately he had pen and paper with him at all times in case he got an idea. 

“Hmmm..” he pondered then began to pen some lyrics. 

“While you’re lying next to me deeply asleep  
I turn to look at you and wonder what you see  
Is it me or our friends that you’re dreaming of  
Or is something more sinister in your mind?

“Things have been hard on us lately I know  
You’re lying so close and yet so far away  
When you wake up we will be here for you  
Until then you’re so close yet so far away. 

“When things get rough you find my arms  
Around you knowing that I’ll protect you  
We need each other in this life it’s true  
I will help you through your hard times

“So close and so far away from us  
What’s going on behind those eyes?  
You’re so close I can touch you, but  
So far away I just don’t know  
How I can help you.” Freddie ended that song with more than a hint of frustration in his voice. He leaned in to give Liz a kiss on her lukewarm cheek, noticing the pallor she had now. “I need you, Liz. We need you. Please don’t die on us.” 

He never really thought about it before, but Freddie guessed that it had been sneaking up on him since the incident at the house. He sat in a chair, buried his face in his hands, exhaling slowly. Ever since he’d woken up in the basement of the Andrews house in a coffin like box and saw Liz looking like death warmed over it shook him. The singer had always thought about his friend being there for him, now he had the realization there was a possibility she wouldn’t be there.

Closing his eyes and reliving the scene, Freddie’s blood ran cold remembering that Liz had begged Roger to kill her as a mercy killing. She had been in so much pain at the time it made a horrible kind of sense to just end the suffering completely. All of them had wanted to help her out but nobody knew how. In the end Roger had saved himself and her. Freddie was very proud of Roger for throwing the demon out of his mind; it was no ordinary task. It was the love of his friends that gave him the superior strength in the end; Freddie was quite proud of him for that.

“Oh god,” the singer muttered. “you could have died that night, Liz. I can’t bear that fact alone! You’re too precious to us.” 

Now she looked like death warmed over again but this time it was an internal struggle that Liz had to wage by herself. Freddie felt as helpless as he had before watching Liz from the sidelines. 

“You can fight this,” the singer grasped both of her hands. “fight and win!” but she was cold and unresponsive just as before. Freddie sank back in his chair, coffee forgotten as he began to recite an old prayer.  
**

Liz woke up on her luxurious bed, happy to feel that her fuzziness was gone. Ben was nowhere in sight so she guessed he was only around to make introductions and brief her on what was going on. The medic sat up in bed, realizing that she was completely naked under the sheets. John had always loved it when she slept next to him in the buff, she remembered. 

“Up already are you?” Ben’s voice sounded from the doorway. Liz flushed red and pulled the bedsheets up so he didn’t see anything indecent. “All I see is a nice display of your back!” he crossed to the bed from the doorway, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. “Freddie was singing a new song to you but you missed it.” 

“Aw, what’s it called?”

“So close yet so far. He was remembering the time you had the run in with the demon-or rather you and Roger did.” 

“Oh my gosh yes,” she blinked slowly, trying to banish the images. “I’ll never get over what the demon did to me.” 

“We never will. I could never get over what that supernatural filth did to you especially.” 

“I know. I was in so much pain at the end and it was unbelievable.” Liz put her face in her hands as Ben put a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her back in a circular manner. 

“That’s not all that’s been on your mind lately,” he sensed. “you’re a complex person, Liz.” 

“Yeah. There’s a few things in my past I’d much rather forget but the incident at the house has me rethinking my vow of silence on the matter.” 

“Well, do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah. Can I get dressed and meet you in the living room?” 

“Of course.” Ben left while Liz got up, taking off the blanket and turned to the bureau. Pulling out the drawers and perusing the contents, Liz settled for a cotton pink camisole top with a Hawaiian print skirt that could be worn like a sarong. The skirt was bright red with white flowers and green leaves scattered all over it which pleased Liz greatly. She pinned back her black hair with light colored barrettes and chose pearl teardrop earrings. 

The medic chose to remain barefoot as she walked from the bedroom out into the living room. It was done in light pine wood which made the room seem bigger than it really was, the floor matched except for a few mint colored throw rugs. Ben was sitting on a black leather sofa near a little indoor pond. 

“What’s that?” she joined him, putting her feet up on a tan colored ottoman. 

“It’s a reflecting pool. Take a look.” Liz leaned in with Ben as the ripples on the top disappeared and they saw Freddie. He was sitting in a chair next to Liz’s bed in the hospital, squeezing her hand, then he leaned over her and put a kiss on her cheek. 

“I look horrible.” 

“I’d like to see anyone looking top notch after being accidentally poisoned. The doctors are near to figuring out what kind of poison that you absorbed and you’ll be treated for it soon.” 

“Good.” Liz remarked. “There’s so much on my mind right now.” 

“I know. Everyone does. Did the experience at the house bring up some memories?” 

“Of a past I had 6 years ago while working as an EMT yes.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“OK. When I worked in the firehouse we got a call about a car accident which involved a woman in labor. I ended up delivering the child right in the back of the ambulance, unfortunately it was too late. The crash seriously injured the mother, she began to hemorrhage, the baby died of contusions,” Liz shut her eyes against the memories and leaned back on the couch. “then I have that horrible experience..” 

“It must have brought up more memories than that.” 

“I need some therapy, Ben,” the reflection in the pool changed. “I saw a lot of crap.” 

“You’ve been repressing it for too long.” he said sympathetically. “Look at the pool. It’s changing.” 

“Is it?”

The pool showed Brian now sitting at Liz’s side with Freddie. She could see clearly that Brian was having difficulty keeping himself together and Freddie was quiet for a change. Brian gave Liz a kiss but that didn’t do anything to rouse her. 

“Do you think it’s hopeless, Freddie?” the guitarist asked with a little sigh. “I..”

Freddie turned to look at his friend with a fierce glint in his eye. “No, Brian! As long as she’s alive there’s still hope! I won’t have you giving up on her!” the singer knew that Brian had problems with his mental health and hoped that his friend wasn’t going to slide into depression like he was prone to. “Look, Bri, it’s been hard on all of us. We’ve been from one situation to another and this time Liz’s life is at stake! She needs us.” Freddie got up and gave Brian a hug, kneeling down in front of his forlorn friend. “Bri, if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me.” 

“Thank you, Freddie.” Brian’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “The doctors are taking forever to get the poison identified and every moment of time that passes she gets weaker.” 

“I know, I know,” the singer sat on the edge of the bed. “we have to pray right now.” 

“I don’t know, Fred-I just..” Brian heaved a sigh as he blinked back a stray tear. “she’s-” 

“Don’t think about it. Just feel,” Freddie coaxed him. “put your mind on hold and do or think with your heart. You’ve always been analytical now it’s time to put that aside.” Brian bowed his head low and didn’t say another word. 

The image faded out, leaving Liz impressed. “I have noticed that Freddie’s the most spiritual apart from me. He taught me to meditate. Bri’s always been the one to ignore what his heart told him and use his head. We have to tell him to use his heart instead of his head sometimes.” 

“I can easily see that,” Ben agreed. “stretch out here with me for a minute.” just like she was with John, Liz stretched out with her head in Ben’s lap. 

“How long will it be before they find a way to combat the poison?”

“I don’t know but it should be under half an hour.” the reflection pool came to life with another image. 

Roger and John were in Freddie and Brian’s places now. The look John gave Liz’s still form made her heart break; it was so sweet and spoke of longing. 

“The doctor told Freddie they had identified what the poison was and are formulating an antidote,” Roger spoke. “it’s going to be another hour or so.” 

“Do you think she has an hour left in her? It may be a more diluted poison but it’s a poison nonetheless,” John didn’t like sounding like a pessimist but he needed to keep Roger in reality. The drummer tended to get carried away at times. “I don’t want her to die, Roger but I want those doctors to work really fast.” 

“I know, me too,” Roger put an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “I want her alert and laughing with us like usual. I have to keep a positive spin on things because I can’t lose hope like Brian has.” Roger shuffled over to his chair again. 

“Ugh,” he put his foot up. “I need to ice this down.” the drummer picked up the lukewarm ice pack one of the nurses had kindly given him the night before. “The sprain really fucked me up.” 

“Speaking of injuries..” John had been in some pain and discomfort from his fall. It was tolerable to him but inconvenient to say the least. “I must have been some drunk if I don’t even remember her digging all the glass out and fixing me up.” 

Roger didn’t reply for a long moment, adjusting the ice pack. “I think that Liz in some ways has become our mom to some degree. She looks after us like a mom, but she’s a friend, though a big flirty friend at that.” 

“She likes flirting with all of us and gives us the comic release that we need.” John remembered many times where Liz flirted like mad to all of the band members, exaggerating the flirty nature and turning it into silliness. They all needed a chuckle now and then, so she had the uncanny ability to know when they were stressed out and needed to laugh. 

The drummer gave Liz a long kiss on the lips, trying to get her to awaken and return the gesture but her lips were starting to get cold. “She’s getting colder, John.” 

“Is she?” the scene blurred and disappeared from the pool. Ben glanced down at Liz who wordlessly asked him if he knew what was going on. 

“They got your doctor and told her of this new development, and they expedited formulating the antidote,” he informed her. “it takes too long and the doctor wants to save your life not kill you.” 

“I should hope so.” the image that popped up now was of John. He was sitting on the bed with Liz, then laid himself down next to her on his good side. The medic was touched by his devotion to her and with Ben, watched for his next move. 

“I should not have let you go,” John spoke to her lifeless looking form. “I was young and stupid back then. I got infected by Roger’s chasing skirts stage and then I started doing it. No woman I’ve met since you could measure up. I don’t want you to leave us, Liz. We couldn’t bear it if you died.” 

“I didn’t know he felt that deeply about our breakup.” Liz murmured, suddenly feeling a bit of tightness in her chest. “poor guy.” 

“Did you?”

“Actually not really. I always felt like John was going to come back to me eventually. I didn’t think that it would take this long.” 

“So come on Liz, how about waking up for us?” John pressed. “We-I need you,” he pressed his lips to her temple. “you’re just an inanimate doll of yourself now. I know we were traumatized by our experiences in that house but I need you,” his voice broke. “you have to come out of that coma sometime! You’re my rock and you have no idea how much I need you right now!” he surrendered to the tears that he felt rising fast. 

“Oh my god,” Liz whispered as the image showed her clearly John was quietly crying over her body. “I still love him; I never stopped really. He’s so reserved and I didn’t think that he’d-” 

“Be human,” Ben supplied smoothly. “John’s not immune to most emotions; he just has a different way of expressing them.” 

“I was mistaking that for aloofness,” Liz realized. John mopped his eyes briefly as the doctor came in with the antidote. “I hope that sets me right.” she was given the full dose immediately. 

“I think it’ll work,” Ben smiled down at her. “we will meet again. Better mail me those concert tickets.” 

“I will.” the image of Ben and the funky looking living room fizzled out of view as she felt a tremendous pressure on her chest.  
**

“What’s happening to her?!” John cried as one of the monitors began to screech. Freddie and the rest of the band rushed into the room, the singer grabbed John’s arm and pulled him off of Liz’s body as the nurses and doctor dashed in. The band was pushed outside the room as a crash cart was taken in. The four men stayed in the hallway but they couldn’t hear what was going on inside the room. 

Brian covertly passed John a tissue which he took with a mumbled thanks, mopping his brow furtively. 

“John what happened in there?”

“The doctor gave her the antidote. I was just.. well, lying with her, she was given the drug and all of a sudden I heard a screeching sound..” 

“Oh god,” Roger turned white. “she must have gone into shock.” 

“That’s really bad, isn’t it,” Freddie tried to peer into the room. “at least the monitor stopped.” 

“I hope she didn’t die,” John paled even more. “I couldn’t stand it.. if..” the bassist began to shake causing some alarm. Brian and Roger took John’s arms as his legs began to feel a bit wobbly. 

“He’s in a form of shock himself,” the drummer steered him down the hall. “easy, John.” 

“John! Come on, let’s get to the solarium over here.” they brought John over to the end of the wing and made him sit down on the vinyl sofa. “She’s not going to die.” Freddie reassured him, his bright brown eyes seemed to lend the distraught bassist some strength. The singer had strong convictions because of his family and religious background and nothing would shake them. 

“Right, mate. She’s not going to die,” Roger affirmed, a friendly hand on John’s shoulder. “she’s not done doing her job yet. Liz has a strong work ethic and her conscience won’t let her die if there’s still work to be done.” the drummer didn’t have a strong background in faith while growing up but he’d imbibed a bit of Freddie’s. 

Brian couldn’t say anything positive as he was trying to combat his own depressive episode at that moment. Freddie could sense his friend wasn’t feeling like his old self so he chose to leave it alone for the time being. John could also determine Brian had withdrawn from his usual self and gave his friend a little nonverbal support, putting his hand on his arm. 

“OK, everyone,” Dr. Kendall found them. “sorry about that.” 

“What is it?” 

“She’ll be all right, Mr. Mercury. I made a bonehead move and gave Ms. Hammond all of a very potent antidote. I should have infused it into her steadily with a saline drip but I didn’t. My apologies.” 

“Thank you,” Roger shuffled to the front. “what happened exactly?”

“Ms. Hammond went into shock after I administered the drug. The team and I counteracted the effects promptly and stopped it before her heart stopped. Ms. Hammond surprised me though. She has incredible inner strength.” Dr. Kendall shook her head. “She bounced right back from the shock and fortunately… well, I want you to see for yourselves!” 

“She gets the inner strength from me,” Freddie teased as they filed back into her room. All of the machines had been cleared out and Liz had been draped in a thick warm blanket. “what is that?”

“When someone goes into shock their body heat gets depleted,” Roger explained. “warm blankets are the way to go.” 

“So what are we looking at exactly?” Brian gave the doctor a questioning look. 

“Maybe I was mistaken. Her eyes were open a few minutes ago. Could be a reflex which does mean she will be waking up soon.” 

“Good. Who wants to stay with her?” John stepped forward. 

“All right. We’ll be back in the morning.” Freddie shepherded the others out as John bent over the figure in the bed. 

**

Around 3 AM that night John woke up from his broken sleep as the nurse closed the door behind her. The bassist wasn’t going to be able to spend much time with Liz that day as they had a concert to do in the late afternoon so he wasn’t going to leave Liz’s side unless he absolutely had to. 

“You look just like Snow White.” John stood up as the low light from the window cast eerie silhouettes on him and Liz. With her black curly hair and pale face, all she was missing was the rosy cheeks from the fairy tale to complete the picture. “Liz, it’s me.” when she failed to respond to him John bent over her, touching his lips to hers hesitantly at first, then sinking into a full kiss. She began to rouse, sensing that it was John and deepened the kiss. Not wanting to release the kiss, John deepened it even more, infusing a little passion into it. He put one hand to the side of her face, slowly dragging it down. The bassist had to break the kiss for air so he did so, taking a gasp. “Liz?” 

Her gray eyes opened up to meet his green ones. “Hi,” she breathed. “John..” 

“Shhh.. we can talk in the morning.” 

“No, John. I need to talk now.” she said urgently. “I heard all you guys talking to me when I was in the coma and you need to listen to me now.” 

“All right. What is it?” 

“I know I haven’t been the same since the incident at the house,” she began. “it brought back a few memories for me when I worked as a first responder. You remember that I had a traumatic birth and that opened up the gateway for one particular memory to come back to me,” Liz told him of the car accident and delivering a dead child. John was speechless but had the presence of mind to put his arms around her. “in the weeks after the incident with the demon that memory just came right back and I think of it all the time now. That poor thing..” a few tears found their way down from her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” the bassist dabbed at her tears with his hand sweetly, giving the medic a deep look of love she hadn’t seen for years. 

“I saw it as a weakness and what could I have said? That I think of that memory and what I could have done to change it?” she put her hand on John’s. 

“Would be a start. Well now your memory is in the open air with me and I have you back. Roger and Freddie have stayed hopeful but I’m a bit concerned about Brian. He’s sliding into his depression.” 

“I think we need to talk to him about that. We both could use some counseling.” 

John rubbed her back with his good arm and hand. “We’re all so happy you finally came out of the coma.” 

“I’m glad to be back. How long has it been?” 

“Almost thirty six hours.” Liz shifted so John could take her upper body in his arms sweetly, cradling her like she was a little child. 

“That long? Anyway John, what you should know is while I was unresponsive my mind was still going a mile a minute. I came to an important realization about you.” 

“How’s that?”

“I should never have let you go. You truly understand me and we have a deep connection, much deeper than I ever thought. I still love you.” 

“Do you want to give us another chance? I feel the same way about you. I love you more than ever.” he didn’t want to get his hopes up but they rose very high indeed. 

“The only person I want to get into bed with is you,” Liz said honestly. “we belong together.” 

“We do.” the two of them locked lips, both feeling a little flush run into their cheeks. John nudged his nose to meet Liz’s, making her giggle.


	9. Lost

9: Lost

Freddie

Freddie gets some whump time! Also this chapter contains a big nod to mental health. If anyone suffers from mental health problems, please get help! There is no shame in admitting you need help. 

SEX in this chapter!

Brian unlocked the door in the hotel hoping for a nice nap before showtime. He tossed the room key on the table, happy that Roger and Freddie were out, then flung himself on the bed, kicked off his clogs, then shut his eyes. 

His first therapy session had gone reasonably well. The local therapist he’d found was polite and agreeable, capable of some pretty good insights. In the two sessions he’d had so far they had worked on his triggers, identifying what he would do in cases where he was triggered, and how to put up with them. Brian had maladaptive coping techniques; in his case just to shut himself off and become unresponsive which wasn’t the best option. He’d learned that he had been giving people the impression that he was arrogant when he did get triggered. Brian was very abrupt, rude, and when he didn’t want to talk he’d get mad. 

Of course sometimes someone else was to blame. Roger was notorious for pushing Brian too far without even really meaning to. The drummer was a bit immature, but happy go lucky. He was what Brian subconsciously wanted to be more like in some ways. Roger was an extrovert, always going around to parties, keeping up with his pals and getting gorgeous women to sleep with. It was the fast life that Roger and Freddie had been pursuing, always making seem so glamorous, getting girls every night or in Freddie’s case men, snorting some crack now and then and drinking, while all the time making up songs to sing. 

At the same time John’s life revved up a little bit with reintroducing Liz to them as his girlfriend again. She was the extrovert to his introvert, getting him out and about on the town doing fun activities. Sometimes they went to parties but did prefer a night in to just watch a cheesy movie on TV or just lie in bed talking to each other. Nobody had ever seen Liz or John look so happy together before which was sweet. 

It reminded Brian of the other thing that he didn’t have. His envy of the couple sometimes manifested in his songwriting where he would pour our his bitter emotions. Liz didn’t mean anything bad and neither did John but still it rubbed Brian the wrong way when they were together. He was jealous to a degree but he was really dissatisfied with himself and tired of envying other people. What was missing was some self satisfaction and Brian was working on it. 

“I’ve got to stop being so jealous of the others...” Brian mumbled to himself. He knew Liz had been seeing a therapist as well to cope with her memories as a paramedic and it seemed to already be working to a degree. “think on it.. sleep on it!” he got ready for bed and turned out the lights. 

**

“John, I think you’re a bit tipsy,” Liz giggled. He’d taken her to a bar and she had a few but not as many as he had. The bassist enjoyed drenching her neck with some Jim Beam and licking it off. She’d laughed at him for it, calling him Rex the dog. “come on, I have something for my little doggie with a bone!” she smacked his ass happily as a few people nearby started laughing.

“Oh, I like that idea!” 

“Come. Freddie and Roger are shaking down a party back at the hotel so if we hurry we can have a quick shag.” she teased him, making him put his hands on her hips. John smiled as she moved her hips, grinding into him as she moved him towards the door. With a laugh and kiss she grabbed their coats and left. 

“Oh, save something for the bedroom, John!” the door snapped shut. 

At the same time Freddie and Roger had snorted a line apiece at the after party. Roger got up and began to dance with a sexy young stripper while Freddie had his eyes trained on a young man wearing all black leather. With his head spinning from the line, the singer got up and hunted down his young man prey. 

“Well, I’m Freddie, how are you tonight?” he began.

“I’m Alex and I love your music!” the man shouted. Alex took off his biker hat and put it on Freddie’s head playfully as they started to dance. The singer thought nothing about immediately dirty dancing with his new friend, clearly making his intentions known. Alex laughed and started encouraging him as Roger started getting down and dirty with his new friend. 

John and Liz were dancing to their own kind of music. Once they got into the hotel room Liz tossed the key on the end table, took John’s pants off of him while he pulled at her skirt, she yanked his shirt off, he unbuttoned her shirt then tossed her onto the bed. Liz assumed a provocative pose, looking at him with a very clear come-hither glance on her face. It had been ten years since they last had sex and in that time frame Liz had lost count on how many sex dreams she’d had about John. 

“Babe I missed this ..” the bassist started at her waist, yanking her underwear off, trailing his fingers up from her stomach past the appealing chest, up to her neck then found her lips. Liz took him hungrily like she would never be able to get enough of him. 

“Your technique is better,” she complimented him, nudging him with one leg to hurry up and get inside. John responded happily with a big kiss, a horny smile, then he reached for his jeans pocket. “we don’t need rubbers now, John.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get you pregnant.” 

“You won’t. Come on then, I want the full naked experience.” 

“Oh don’t mind if I do.” John clambered back on top of Liz, tilting her head one way and giving her a hickey gently. The medic tongued John’s strong neckline, licked his ear, then giggled as he grabbed both of her hands in one grip, pinned them back, then gave her a deep kiss while rearranging himself. Liz smiled to herself then felt John skillfully at her entrance, nudging himself in gradually, allowing her to adapt to him. When he was finally inside John asked her how it felt. 

“Like the missing piece is back,” he propped himself up on his knees. “like what I fantasized about during those last ten years is finally home once and for all. I dreamed of this.” 

“Really? I dreamed of you and your sopping wet pussy.” 

“Oh it’s sopping now. I love friction.” she moaned, arching her head back and closing her eyes. 

Several moments later after intense passion John had the rewarding experience of hearing his girlfriend scream his name. The lock clicked in the door a few minutes after that, causing Liz to hurry up and draw a cover over the naked pair. 

Roger burst into the room with a half empty beer bottle in one hand, Freddie followed him with a big belly laugh. “Back screaming each other’s names now are we?” 

John turned as red as the shirt Roger was wearing as Liz started laughing along with Freddie. “We just had sex after ten years and it was every bit as great as I wanted it to be!” 

“John blew your mind didn’t he?” Roger pounded out the rhythm for Get Down Make Love on the end table. 

“You take my body-”

“I give you heat!” Roger chimed in.

“You say you’re hungry-”

“I give you meat!” John kissed Liz.

“I suck your mind-”

“You blow my head!” Liz sang.

“Make love-inside your bed!” Freddie led them into the chorus then they stopped as Brian knocked on the door. 

“What up?” Brian looked sleep tousled and bleary eyed but otherwise content, something they hadn’t seen in him for a long time. Nobody acted like it was unusual for them to hold a band meeting with a naked couple in bed which was another bonus for Liz. 

During the meeting Freddie briefed them on their set list, Brian gave some input on songs as did Roger, and John informed them on the band’s finances. Liz didn’t have anything to contribute so she kept still while the others rambled on. 

“Last order of business. John, how was Liz, eh?” Freddie teased. “Still the same or better than ever?”

“Better than ever. In fact, I’m already wanting to go again.” Liz smiled widely as she was already getting horny once more. John satisfied every inch of her body and she would soon get addicted to sex with him like she had before. Under the covers John slid his hand down her inner thighs and discovered she was speaking the truth. 

“Oh,” the bassist straddled her, making her lie down. “think you can scream my name any louder?”

“No!” she blushed happily. 

“Everyone heard you on the floor. Roger and I just got off the lift and we knew immediately what you were doing!” John flushed pink but beamed at Freddie’s bold proclamation. 

“I bet it is.” 

“Well, I have a date,” Roger bade them goodnight and left followed by Freddie, who loudly bragged that he had a hot one night stand awaiting him. “goodnight you two lovebirds!” 

“Brian?” Liz spoke up. The guitarist hung back for a few moments. 

“Yeah, Liz?”

“Are you feeling all right?” she took his hand in a friendly way. Brian had to work to keep his jealousy down but he was faintly aroused by Liz. Even though she was covered up her shoulders were bare the guitarist felt a little bit of desire for her and more envy for John. The guitarist kept his expression neutral, his face free of blush, and he smiled down at the couple. 

“No, but I’m working towards normal for now. My therapist suggested I make a journal or diary like you do.” 

“I hope you find it useful. If you want to talk I’ll be happy to listen.” she gave him a look of reassurance and sincerity. 

“Thank you.” he kissed her on the cheek and left the room, wondering what kind of noise he was going to hear this time!

“On to you, John.” 

“No, I’m on to you.” the bassist hoisted himself onto Liz, already half hard. 

**

“Oh so tell me what it is we will be doing tonight,” Freddie laughed as Alex blindfolded him and started leading him into a room. What followed was an orgy of oral and anal sex, the smell of leather, lube, and the pure energy of Freddie’s lust. He was matched in terms of Alex, their interests sexually were completely the same, they spent several long hours energetically having sex. 

The room Freddie had been brought to was sparse, a king size bed with a headboard, cement floor with a few throw rugs, and a small window near the top of the room. 

As dawn approached, Freddie stretched and opened up his eyes lethargically, noting that one hand had been handcuffed to the headboard. Grinning to himself as he reimagined the past night, the singer felt completely and fully satisfied in every way. 

“Oh Alex,” he chirped happily. “be a dear and give me the key to these cuffs.” 

No response. Freddie remembered that Roger had showed him how bedroom or sex handcuffs work. Without the key all he needed to do was jimmy the locking mechanism by the little tongue which kept it tight. With his free hand he moved up the tongue so it clicked once, releasing the lock and opening the cuffs. With his hand free he slid off the bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor, then saw there was a heavy door barring him from going into the house. 

“What the devil is this?” he demanded. “Does a rock star deserve this kind of treatment?!”

The singer tried the door, checking to see if it was locked and unfortunately it was. At first he thought it was a game that Alex was trying to play with him but the amusement dwindled fast as he got hungry and all of his basic needs were ignored. 

A cold draft blew into the room towards the end of the day. Freddie burrowed into the covers of the bed, hoping that it was a bad dream.  
**

The next day was just as dismal as the first. Freddie was getting frustrated as his needs were ignored, he was starving, and being driven crazy by the isolation. 

He’d had no choice but to tend to his basic needs in the darkest corner of the room though after he did so there was a momentary relief. Freddie sat on the bed, rolled up in the covers as the cold draft blew on him repeatedly. 

“Wait a sec,” he looked up. “where is that draft coming from?” 

The window had been installed improperly, the singer noticed. Standing up on the bed Freddie jiggled the hinge, noticing that the window was screwed into a pine board that was close to breaking. There was already a big crack in the board which was letting the cold air in. It took a few well placed blows for the board to shatter completely, Freddie’s anger fueling him so he didn’t feel a thing. 

A big blast of cold air got him right in the face. Freddie shivered, grabbed his bundle of blankets, then managed to hoist himself into the window space. 

Once he was free from the confines of the room, the singer realized he had just walked semi-naked into an icy forest, making him wonder where Alex had brought him exactly. Still it had to be better than slowly freezing to death in a basement bedroom or prison cell. Freddie rewrapped himself in a fleece blanket he’d salvaged and began to march. 

To where would be anyone’s guess. 

At the same time Brian woke up from his nap on the bed, realizing that Freddie had not come in last night. He checked his friend’s room which only had Roger sleeping on his bed, mouth slightly open, snoring softly. 

“Rog!” 

“Huh! What?” Roger sat up. “Oh, Bri. Good thing you woke me up. I don’t want to be late for my massage!” he stood up, rebuttoned his t-shirt and pulled on his jeans. 

“Massage?”

“Yeah! Helps me loosen up so I can play the drums better.” Brian would have called Roger on his nonsense but knew that it was true. When the drummer was tense the music didn’t sound as nice compared to when he was completely loose. 

“Listen, have you seen Freddie?”

“No, why?”

“Nobody has. I’m starting to get worried.” the two of them stepped out of the hotel room and went down to the lobby. 

“Give it until tonight then we can call, all right?” Roger offered, giving Brian a pat on the back. “Freddie wouldn’t let his fans down.” 

“True. What type of massage do you get?” 

“I get a deep tissue, why?” 

The two of them were standing in front of the hotel spa. “Because I’m thinking of getting one as well. It sounds like a good idea. What’s the least painful?” 

“Try a Swedish massage.” 

“All right.” the two of them went into the spa as John and Liz came into the lobby. 

“I think that it was fucking cold out there!” Liz shivered under her greatcoat. “Ugh I hate winter. Come on, let’s go to the pool!” 

“All right!” 

**

Freddie stumbled into the woods, gasping as the sharp air penetrated his lungs and slapped him heavily in the face. His fleece blanket he’d snatched from his prison had been ripped out of his hands by the blowing breeze and he didn’t have to be a doctor to know that he was going to succumb to hypothermia. It had been at least three days now since he’d seen anyone and he’d been having hallucinations for awhile now. 

Not realizing he was on top of a hill, Freddie stepped in what he thought was the direction of the town they were playing at, then swore as he began to fall down the hill into a gully. Sharp pain shot through him as he fell through a briar patch, nearly missed a tree, then skidded to a stop on an icy pond. 

Freddie thought he heard a crack so he opened up his eyes slowly, hoping that more cracks were not going to be heard by him. He was lying curled on his left side and not moving, let his eyes observe where he was, checking for cracks on the pond. Carefully he began to shuffle his way over to the shore but he hadn’t moved more than a few inches when there was a very sharp crack and down he went into the freezing abyss. 

This is what those maniac thrillseekers do in winter, Freddie thought. Every inch of him hurt but he was able to focus his eyes towards the hole where he fell and propel himself up towards the light. 

When he broke surface the sharp cold struck him again but not caring about that, Freddie grasped one side of the hole and tried to hoist himself up but the ice was too thin and broke under his weight. The singer once more fell into the pond but he was resolute, determined to live through his ordeal and see tomorrow. Trying repeatedly he finally snagged a piece of very thick ice near to him, wiggled over and then managed to hoist himself up completely out of the water. 

“Fuck this shit!” Freddie hurriedly got off the pond and back into the snow. “If I die I will be able to stop freezing!” 

An hour later Freddie was ready to give up. He thought he spied a neon sign like the one near their venue for the week, then realized that the hypothermia was threatening to take his consciousness away. 

Liz had drilled him and the others what to do in emergency situations such as resisting the icy coldness as long as he could but Freddie determined he’d gone past the point of endurance. Dismissing his hallucinations(was that a car he heard?) he fell to his knees then passed out completely. 

**

Voices were the next thing he heard. Freddie tried to open his eyes but it felt like someone was holding his eyelids down. 

“Good thing he’s in such good shape!” someone maneuvered him onto something and he felt himself moving somewhere. 

“His 02 saturation rate is very low; keep the mask on him.” another someone put a mask on Freddie’s mouth and nose. 

“This guy’s been missing for the past 3 days-his band’s worried sick. Come on, let’s get him back into the warmth.” a warm blanket was put over him. 

Very grateful to the people who rescued him, Freddie allowed himself to sink back into unconsciousness, confident now that he’d be able to wake up and hopefully keep all his appendages. 

In a dark hotel room the phone rang. John’s arm freed itself of the sheets as he reached over to answer it, trailing the phone cord over Liz’s still form. Roger became alert instantly as John mumbled a hello into the receiver. 

“Mr?”

“Deacon.”

“Hi, I’m Meredith from patient registration. Your bandmate, Mr. Mercury has been found.” 

“Well that’s good. Where was he?” he opened up his eyes wider as Liz stirred. 

“The EMTs found Mr. Mercury near the highway. He’s got hypothermia and is being successfully treated for it. Before you rush in, let me advise you that the doctors say it will be at least 8 more hours before he regains full consciousness. All of you stay in bed, come down around 9 AM and he should be close to waking then.” the tone of voice was so warm and friendly, yet maternal. John had to smile. 

“Your advice will be followed to the letter.” he chuckled. 

“Good.” the bassist hung up as Roger’s blue eyes found his. Liz only stirred a little bit, having already guessed at what her boyfriend would tell her. 

“We need to come in around 9 AM tomorrow morning, no sooner.” John trailed his lips down his girlfriend’s jawline, moving over towards her neck and giving her a kiss. 

“Agreed.” Roger pulled up the blankets sleepily, already halfway asleep. 

**

“Brian?” Brian murmured in his sleep softly, turning over and hearing the voice call his name again. Someone put a hand on the side of his face, telling him that they had great news so he slitted his eyes open. 

“News?” he asked faintly, still half in the grip of his dreams. “What news?” 

“They found Freddie,” Liz informed him. She was leaning over her friend so that when he opened up his eyes he found himself staring straight into her low cut top. “we’ll be going over to the hospital in half an hour.” 

“OK.” the guitarist got up as soon as she left, banishing his thoughts of loneliness and depression. All of the band was tidying up, having breakfast, etc, so by the the time Brian was done they met outside the hotel doors, bundled up in their winter gear and headed out.

“Does anyone really know what happened to Freddie these past 3 days?” 

“I couldn’t tell ya. I thought he was out to have a good time with that gay guy from the party but then I guess it went to hell.” Roger guessed. 

“There will be some charming and colorful way that Freddie will term it I’m very sure.” they left the lobby and grabbed a cab to the hospital.

For Freddie the next thing he remembered was blissful warmth. Sluggishly he opened up his eyes, relishing the fact that he finally felt warm again. He vaguely remembered people dousing him in a lukewarm bath then gradually turning up the heat until his body temperature stabilized normally. The singer had been drowsy the whole time, not remembering too much of anything until a few hours ago. Freddie had been given an IV to rehydrate him, they’d checked his blood for any abnormalities, and he would be given the all clear to be discharged after he’d rested some.

“Well there’s Freddie!” Roger chirped loudly as he came into the room. Liz and John followed hand in hand while Brian brought up the rear. 

“There’s my friends!” Freddie welcomed the kiss from Liz, the warm pats on the shoulders and arms from the band, and smiled in appreciation of the carnations and lilies Liz had brought him. 

“So what happened to you, Freddie?” John sat down on a chair, pulling Liz onto his lap. 

“Well I don’t really know to be honest with you,” Freddie began. “one moment I was enjoying myself with a young gay named Alex and the next I woke up in a dark room with a cold draft. I was in there for about a day then I realized the coldness had to come from somewhere and it was the window above the bed that had been broken. I managed to shatter the pine frame holding the window down and crawl out.” 

“Shit.” 

“My thoughts exactly, Brian,” the singer clasped his friend’s hand. “I only knew that I had to get out of there. Took my chances I can tell you! My word it was cold out there! I spent the first night in some kind of shelter behind a rock wall where the wind wasn’t so bad. The second night I ignored it and just kept walking thought I was exhausted. What I remember next was falling down a hill through some thorny patches and landing on a pond. I was shuffling off of it and trying to get to shore when the ice broke and I went down.” 

“Oh shit!” Roger swore, his face emptying of blood so he was pale. 

“Tell me about it!” Freddie giggled weakly. “I kept foundering, hoping for a miracle at that point. I needed to get myself out of that pond. I fell back in at least once, kept my face up, then I got myself out on a very thick platform of ice and from what they say, collapsed near the highway.” 

“You didn’t think that it was the highway?”

“No, Liz. I thought I was hallucinating again.” 

“You know better than that now.” 

“Of course I do. There’s only one thing that I want right now.” 

“What is it?” John shifted his weight slightly. 

“I want a kiss from a red blooded female to help restore me back to my full potential.” 

Liz smirked, coloring pink. “He’s not as good as you, John.” the bassist giggled as Liz sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Freddie what he asked for. Freddie decided to ham it up a bit and make her fall down on top of him as he reeled back. Everyone started laughing as they sat back up, Liz looking a little shocked. 

“What do you say to that?” 

“I say you kiss like Roger does,” she sat back on John’s lap. “You have no finesse! No technique! You slobber too much and I don’t think that’s attractive!” 

Instead of turning pale Roger was now red in the face from Liz’s declaration. Freddie nudged his friend as even Brian was guffawing.

“Well, as long as you’re in the mood to spill, how about Bri here?”

“John’s the best kisser, Brian would have to be second. He approaches it like a science experiment and is pretty restrained which I find really helps.” 

“All right,” the guitarist tried to keep his flush of amusement off his face but it didn’t work completely. “when can we bust you out of here?”

“Soon as I’ve rested!” 

“Think you’ll be able to go on stage tonight?” John inquired quietly. “You’ve been through a lot, Freddie.” 

“Not on your life, darling! Being here with my band family and I’m on the mend-that’s all I need to get through a night on the stage!” 

“Freddie’s back talking in exclamation points now,” Brian had to laugh, something he hadn’t really been doing lately. “I trust him on this. After all it does tend to get sweaty under the pizza oven lights.” 

“Exactly my point!” 

“Liz? You have the last word on this.” Roger reminded her. 

“It would take a braver person than me to try to stop him.” 

“All right! Let’s get going! Ayy oh!” he started up.


	10. Female Issues

Chapter 10: Female Issues

 

It had been a wild night out for the band and Liz as they celebrated her birthday at a club in Munich. Freddie had pulled out all of the stops for her, bottles of the band’s favorite liquor lined the shelves so there was plenty of booze to go around. Freddie did like his vodka, Brian liked Jack Daniels, Liz preferred vermouth and John loved Southern Comfort. Roger didn’t seem to have a favorite as he’d drink just about anything. That night the drummer had developed a preference for Crown Royal, a Canadian style whiskey. 

Liz dressed up in a black satin miniskirt, fishnet tights, black pumps, and a see through white sheer shirt that clearly showed her black and white lacy bra right under it. She wore deep red lipstick, silver eyeliner, and put on a pair of crystal teardrop earrings Freddie had given her as an early birthday present. The medic clearly enjoyed herself, doing body shots with everyone, culminating in John getting red lipstick on his cheek. 

“Time for the cake, dearie!” Freddie trumpeted over everyone else. The crew from the show brought Liz in a sheet cake which was decorated in black and gold. 

“Happy birthday to the best medic around! Love Queen.” she read out with a grin. “Give me my scalpel, Bri.” he handed her a serrated cake knife so she could start cutting it. The medic spent much of the party giggly and tipsy, giving the band kisses on the cheek so by the end of the party all of them had a little smear of red on them. To everyone’s surprise, she had gotten John to dirty dance with her, grinding on him and pretty much simulating sex on the dance floor fully clothed. 

“Disco Deacy!” John blushed at the new nickname but gave it his all. 

When they reached the hotel room that night, Roger wisely opted to chat with Brian and Freddie in their room as John began to initiate sex with the birthday girl. They fell asleep together happily, very satisfied. 

Later on that night while tucked up in bed at the hotel, Liz awakened from her slumber in the wee hours of the morning, not knowing why she was awake, then it hit her. She had the dreaded pelvic cramping again. It felt like a fist had squeezed her lady parts painfully for a couple of seconds and then let go. 

Oh great, she thought to herself, not wanting to disturb John. It’s going to be a painful one this month. The medic reached over to her end table where she found a bottle of Tylenol and took two tablets, hoping that would be enough to quell her pain for now. 

John had woken up when she did; her little gasp of pain had put him on alert. He kept his eyes closed but listened to his girlfriend as she rummaged for the medicine bottle. The bassist listened for any more noise from Liz but he heard her breathing gradually ease out and go back into the slow rhythmic pattern typical of sleep. Satisfied for the moment he went back to sleep as well.

**

“Come on, let’s get this going!” Freddie picked up a 12 string guitar of Brian’s and began to play it as John and Liz walked in. “Liz, you look a bit pale, sweetie.” 

“I’m OK,” after taking more medicine that morning she did feel pretty much fine. John surreptitiously kept an eye on her, taking her coat and hanging it up. However, Freddie was right; she had indeed lost some color in her cheeks. “what’s that chord you’re butchering, Freddie?” 

“Oh you evil woman!” he retorted with a big smile. “I had this idea last night...” 

The medic drove herself through the day, avoiding caffiene and sugar. Brian came in while she was lying on the couch, trying to summon up the energy to go and see what was going on. “Hey Liz, what’s up?” 

“I don’t have any energy today, Bri,” a half truth. 

“I’ll say. Everyone’s noticed you’re not yourself. Should I take you back to the hotel?” 

Liz sat up as a little cramp hit, making her swear in annoyance. The guitarist’s hazel eyes locked onto hers as he waited for a response, his expression deepening in concern. “What’s going on?”

“I’m having a particularly difficult time this month,” she admitted to him. “sometimes it happens.” 

“You look really tired. Come on, I’ll take you back. John’s staying later with Freddie to develop more experimental bass lines to see what works. Rog is already down in the lobby.” he stood up, extending his hand to her. 

“All right. Let me tell John I’m going back,” she accepted his hand, steadying herself as her knees threatened to give way. “hey John,” Liz walked into the sound booth. He was deep in conversation with Freddie but looked up and gave his girlfriend a sweet smile as she stood in the doorway. “I’m heading back with Brian and the 5-year-old.” her affectionate term for Roger, who had the energy of a 5-year-old.

“OK. I’ll be along in a few hours.” he kissed her, murmuring for her to take care of herself which she acknowledged. 

“Don’t keep him too long, Freddie.” 

“God forbid!” Freddie mocked her playfully. “We’ll be back for supper!” 

Brian and Roger took Liz back to the hotel where they installed her on the bed though they would have preferred that she get in it, but Liz said it wasn’t bedtime so she wasn’t going to get into her pajamas just yet. The medic kept trying to relax but every time a cramp hit her she’d groan. Brian didn’t exactly know what to do, but Roger, who had a sister, knew a few tricks. 

“Come on you,” he gave her a few shots of whiskey to relax her. “you didn’t take any medication yet, did you?” 

“No.” 

“Good. I think you’ll find it’ll help.” 

“The booze?” 

“Yeah. Move those hands now.” Roger had procured a warm pack from the drugstore, warmed it up in the suite’s microwave and brought it in to his friend. Liz shifted aside absentmindedly so the drummer’s hands draped the warm pack over her pelvis perfectly. 

“That helps wonderfully.” Liz exhaled, her hands over Roger’s for a moment as the warmth seeped into her skin. He smiled happily as Brian picked up the TV remote and turned it on. “The hand squeezing my lady bits with no mercy has stopped for a little while.” 

“Well good!” he gave her a little kiss. “Come on, Brian! Let’s curl up with her until John gets here!” 

Grinning, Brian got himself onto the bed beside Liz. With Roger opposite, the two bandmembers flanked Liz as the guitarist started channel surfing. 

“It’s a porn channel! Stop here, Brian!” 

“Not on your life,” Brian told him dryly, flipping to another station. “you keep me up half the night as it is with your overly active partying.” 

“Spoilsport!” Roger stuck out his tongue which made Liz giggle. 

“No, more common sense than anything. Look, a NOVA special on space; I think I’ll watch that instead. Carl Sagan no less!” 

“Snore fest.” Roger pouted, nudging Liz, who smirked and shook her head. The whiskey had relaxed her, Roger’s warm pack was emitting its soothing warmth to her sore uterus and she knew she would not be able to keep her eyes open before long. 

Brian was completely enthralled by the documentary, watching it obsessively to the last minute. When Carl Sagan’s figure had been obscured by black and the voiceover started, the credits rolled, and Brian turned off the TV with a yawn. 

“Come on Freddie, you know that Liz is ill and still you make me stay until almost 11 working on bass riffs,” John’s tired voice filtered down into the hallway. “I would have liked to be here sooner.” 

“Sorry John, I lose track of time so easily.” 

“Let’s just keep it to normal hours.” he turned the key, heard the lock pop open, then both entered the room. 

“That’s a pretty sight.” Brian, Liz and Roger were sitting propped up on pillows on the bed, everyone was sound asleep. John could not help but smile as Brian and Roger looked like they were guarding their ill friend. Freddie smirked as he gently shook Roger’s shoulder, murmuring to him that it was time to get into his own bed. John did the same with Brian, reminding him to keep quiet. 

“Didn’t realize that I fell asleep,” Roger mumbled as he helped Brian lay Liz down. Freddie took her shoes off as John picked up the medicine bottle, measuring out a dose. “take good care of her, John.” 

“I always do.” he smiled reassurance. 

“Of course you do,” Brian backed him up. “she’s in excellent hands.” 

John saw his friends out of the room except for Roger who changed and got into his bed without another word. The bassist got Liz to take a nighttime dose of Tylenol then he got ready and into bed as well.

**

The next morning Liz felt ten times worse than the day before. There was a pressure in her lower back which didn’t hurt but she wasn’t able to get comfortable very easily. The medic was roused a little bit by Roger talking which meant it was already morning. 

John must have gotten up as well; his voice was further away. “What was that, Rog?”

“She doesn’t look so good, John. Are you sure you want to come with me to the studio?” 

Liz could sense the amusement in his voice. “I know how this goes, Roger. She’s usually very tired and sleeps half the day away. When she is awake she gets cranky and moody. It’s to our mutual benefit that I leave so she doesn’t take anything out on me.” 

“Hormones, eh? My sister would threaten me with bodily harm.” 

“So would mine. Liz appreciates the distance on the second day. Tomorrow will be better.” the two of them left. 

True to John’s prediction, Liz could not keep her eyes open that day. She got up, took a shower, then changed into fresh pajamas. Turning on the TV she found a few generic sitcoms to watch but it wasn’t long before her eyelids were closing like iron doors. 

The TV droned on in the background but Liz found herself heading for a series of strange dreams that were oddly vivid but she would not be able to remember them later. 

At about 2 PM John returned back from the studio with a plastic bag in one hand. He opened up the door, saw the TV was on, then turned it off with the remote. Freddie had actually been sorry he’d kept John so late the last night so John had no problem leaving the studio early to check on Liz and make up some lost sleep himself. Fortunately the bass lines he had developed gave the rest of the band something to work on so he got private time with Liz. 

“Tell the poor dear that we wish her well!” Freddie had chirped, waving him off. 

“And how’s our patient?” John asked himself, stepping over to the bed. Instead of looking pale like she had yesterday, Liz had a little bit of her color back. The medic was lying on her left side so he sat opposite her, brushing her hair back from her face. She felt a little flushed to his touch but he knew that was normal. 

Like usual, Liz stirred under his warm hand. Gray eyes met his green ones, the long lashed lids revealed a tired and pain filled expression as they took in his presence. 

John smiled tentatively at Liz. “Hi, how are you feeling?” 

“Ugh.” was all she would say. 

“Well, I went to the drugstore to see if I could find something better for you to take,” he began, opening up his bag. “I’m guessing that the lower back pain is in play again, isn’t it?” 

“Yep.” 

“I figured as much. Anyway, the chemist gave me this drug which is longer lasting and has a very mild stimulant so you don’t fall asleep. I made sure it was extremely mild so you don’t turn into Roger with too much energy.” he teased. 

“Don’t want that.” she took the medicine he’d given her. John made sure that she drank plenty of water, then sat next to her, stroking her hair. A little mystery to him was how Liz always roused to his touch when she was asleep. How did she know that it was him? It was probably his scent that made her feel safe or something like that. 

“How did you get out of the studio?”

“Well, Freddie could see that I was worried about you. I know we’ve been through this before many times, but I also know things that they don’t about your particular cycle.” 

“My tendency to grow cysts and the like. They’re so incredibly painful.” Liz could not repress a shudder. John brushed a curl away from her eyes as they closed again. 

“Exactly. Have you ever had one that didn’t rupture?” he closed one hand over her pelvis, giving it a little rub. When she didn’t remove her hand John assumed that it had a beneficial effect. 

“No but I know they do have to go in and remove it by draining. I’d rather not have that happen.” she flinched for a moment. The bassist gave her another rub which eased the cramp. Liz put her hand over his, giving him a kiss of thanks. 

“Me neither. I don’t want anyone cutting into your delicate pink skin.” he kissed her hand sweetly. The medic made a soft noise which indicated that she was falling into sleep again. “By tomorrow you’ll be feeling much better, I think.” the bassist picked up a music magazine he’d found at the store. With his hand on Liz’s hand, he began to peruse the magazine for the rest of the afternoon. 

**

The next morning Liz awoke to Roger and Brian looking down at her while Freddie chattered to John who was getting ready to head into the studio. 

“Oh, it’s Mr. Cosmonaut and the 5-year-old.” she smiled sleepily. 

“You must be feeling better if you can give us such dubious nicknames,” Brian’s smile lighted up his face while Roger’s usual grin sat on his features. “I think you’ll be all right today.” 

“Damn straight I will be.” she sat up and stretched. “How much time have I got?” 

“I want to see how fast you move! Five minutes!” Freddie chimed in. Liz got into a pair of drawstring pants and a white peasant blouse. She grabbed her purse which she’d discreetly loaded with supplies the night before, and twisted her black hair into a messy ponytail. With her sneakers on and ready to go, she beat the rest of them out the door, racing Roger to the elevator. 

“She seems fine now.” Brian told Freddie and John. 

“The first 24 hours are the hardest it seems. Still, I’m glad she’s back in good spirits.”


	11. Flu

11: Flu

 

Roger leaned into the plane window, sighing heavily. He had been unusually quiet during the plane ride so far, John noticed, casting his friend a glance from two seats away. Freddie and Brian chattered with Liz, looking forward to their 14 days off from the recording session in Munich. 

“So Liz did you hear from Ben at all lately?” 

“Not at all, Freddie. He knows our schedule is crazy but I think we’re doing some London shows sometime soon. I’ll ask Miami to send him a ticket for the show.” John snaked his hand to Liz’s inner thigh and gave it a squeeze, making her giggle. The last she’d heard from the band’s friend was that he’d successfully expanded his business to an office in London where several people were working under him. 

“Come off it, Freddie this will work, believe me,” Brian started to argue again. “what do you think, really?”

“Brian I can’t find an angle on it. What is this song trying to say?” 

“Maybe it’s too subjective for you..” Brian squinted at the notepad. “how can I make this clearer?” 

“You see Brian, it’s too abstract. Work on it some more. What do you want to say with it?” Freddie coached him. In his mind’s eye Brian’s song was an equivalent to a Picasso, very indirect with random colors and body parts strewn around with no sense. The singer needed a mental picture with the appropriate words painted onto the canvas with care that he could extrapolate. 

Brian had been looking much happier lately; everyone noticed it. John watched him scrawl on the notepad, his hazel eyes going a hundred miles an hour. It seemed like a weight had been lifted off of his friend’s shoulders and he was finding humor in things again. The therapy was ongoing but it seemed like the therapist had coached Brian on new strategies to combat his depression. They were working as Brian seemed loose and more easygoing. He was smiling loads more than he used to, which encouraged the more outgoing (Freddie, Roger and Liz) to become even more funny and extroverted. 

“Are we descending already?” Freddie craned his neck, brushing against Roger. “Do you feel all right, Rog? You’ve been so quiet.” he thought he detected a little heat coming from the drummer but thought it was because of the close quarters. 

“I have? Are we landing already?” Roger took his hand from the side of his face as the captain spoke over the intercom. 

**

Roger spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, perusing TV channels while distractedly writing down some lyrics. John and Brian took Liz out for a walk in Hyde Park while Freddie finished doing laundry. The drummer found a movie on TV and pretended to be interested at that, dozing off when he found the movie too tedious. 

“At least we’re home again!” snow was falling outside the window thickly, covering up a windowpane fast. “The others better come home soon before they freeze.” 

Roger did not respond to his friend’s comments which Freddie did notice but didn’t say anything. John, Liz and Brian came into the house covered with snow, stomping their feet, shaking out their winter gear to hang up in the hall closet. 

“Lookie what I got, a letter from Ben!” Liz took it, jumped onto the couch next to Roger who didn’t react to her at all. “Dear Liz and Queen, I’m very grateful for the stock you signed over to me. My real estate firm has gained more value, almost doubling since we last met and we are about to open up a new office in London! The business is doing extremely well of course and I am looking forward to the new location very much. I will be coming up to London sometime next month to hire on some new associates to run the new location and I hope to see you all while I am here. My children are doing fine; they are eagerly anticipating staying with their grandma and cousins while I come up to London for two weeks. Your property is doing fine; I’m taking great care of it for you. Perhaps you can come up for a winter vacation? Think about it. Much love to all, Ben.” Liz picked up the letter and moved into her room, putting the letter in her old correspondence wooden box.

“Oh, there’s a PS on here. Liz, I had a strange dream where you had been poisoned. I did hear a rumor that it had happened to you while on tour. Can you confirm or deny this? I need to know that you’re all right.” 

That could wait until later, she decided, opening up the wooden box that her grandfather had made for her twenty years ago. It was regular plywood, painted in her favorite amethyst color and had brass hinges and lifting handles. Only John understood what she kept in there; items of sentimental interest mainly. His love letters to her were in there, Ben’s letters to her, even Freddie’s funny notes, etc. The band had given her a get well soon card after her bout with the flu back when they were in college which she had kept ever since. 

The rest of the night passed without incident from anyone. Freddie sat down at the piano with Brian and both began to work on a song while John and Liz watched a movie together on TV. Roger went to bed early which nobody seemed to notice. 

**

All throughout the next day Roger felt very warm but he ignored it, walking near the piano and absentmindedly tapping on the cover. Freddie and John had gone out to visit their families, Liz was talking with Brian in the kitchen as they were preparing dinner. 

“Come on then, I need to get the eggs out!” Liz wrenched the carton out of the fridge as Brian watched, stirring something in a pot on the stove. The medic cracked an egg with one hand against the side of the bowl then inserted her thumb into the crack, separating the two broken halves. 

“How the hell did you learn that one?”

“I taught myself years ago. Roger, did you want some supper?” the drummer shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen where Brian covered the saucepan and adjusted the heat on the range. 

“You don’t look good, hon,” there was a definite redness in his cheeks. Roger had spent most of the day dozing in front of the TV and he still felt tired. “Do you think you can eat?”

“Not hungry.” his eyes closed for a moment as Liz put her hand on his forehead. 

“You’ve got a fever, Rog. To bed with you before you collapse in front of us.” she turned away to tend to her cooking as the drummer felt a surge of nausea overtake him. He beat a hasty retreat down the hallway and quickly entered the bathroom, slamming the door. Shakily he stood up at the sink, his hands on the countertop with his head dangling down towards his chest. The smells from the kitchen inwardly smelled good but his stomach was tying itself up in knots. Roger, mindful that bile acid corroded teeth, brushed his teeth well. 

He stayed in the bathroom until suppertime was over then ambled into the hallway, weaving a little erratically. Liz looked up from where she was lying on the couch with her head in Brian’s lap. “Roger? I told you to go to bed.” Brian glanced over at his friend, half expecting him to be buzzed or drunk but the smart aleck one liner he was about to give his friend evaporated. 

Roger’s lips wobbled like he was trying to form a response but gave up and collapsed on the floor. Brian and Liz jumped up and rushed over to him, calling his name, trying to get a response but they got nothing. 

“He’s burning up!” Brian dashed to the fridge and retrieved an ice pack. Liz put it on the sick drummer’s head, helped Brian pick Roger up and move him to his room. The two of them stripped Roger down to his underwear, got him into a pair of pajamas, then put him in bed. The guitarist brought out some extra strength Tylenol and managed to get Roger to take a dose. 

“His fever is about 104. Of course if he’d been good to himself he could have staved this off for awhile by taking medicine at the first sign of a fever.” annoyed, Brian turned off the overhead light. 

“I’ll come in at about midnight to give him a second dose,” Liz volunteered. “this stuff needs to go down his gullet every six hours.” 

“Right. When is Freddie and John coming back?”

“Around 9 or so. I hope they don’t get snowed in.” 

“They won’t. Their families don’t live far from here.” they closed the door to Roger’s room, leaving their friend in his feverish dreams. 

**

“How’s everyone doing tonight? Roger already turn in?” Freddie sang out, unwinding his scarf and draping it over a chair. He removed his fedora, shaking it out and putting it in the hall closet. 

“Yeah. About that, Roger is very sick at the moment,” Liz watched John hang up his jacket. “he collapsed after suppertime and I noticed he was flushed with a high fever.” 

“That’s horrible! Does he need to be watched?” John asked promptly as he seized a hanger and hung up his black leather jacket. 

“He needs to be given some medicine at midnight,” the medic yawned. “I’m beat. Shoveling snow and trying to keep up with Brian’s intellectual banter has me all done in.” 

“Darling, I’ll take watch over Roger and get him to take his medicine,” Freddie offered. “he’ll listen to me.” 

“Freddie, he’s delirious by now. Reason goes out the door with him.” was all Liz told him as she went to bed, John following her shortly after. 

Brian followed suit as the singer waited until midnight, writing lyrics in the low light of Roger’s desk lamp. Freddie took the medicine in hand and began to try to get Roger to take it but he wouldn’t. Finally he opened up his mouth, put his hand on his ill friend’s hand, then managed to persuade him to take it. Usually it was Roger who had the gift of fast talking all of his friends into doing something they might not want to do, but the habit had rubbed off on Freddie. 

“There you go, down the hatch!” the singer grinned as Roger took the medicine. “I’m heading off to bed now and you better be well again in the morning!” 

The next day the band took turns looking after Roger. He was still feverish and cried out nonsense in his sleep which alarmed all of them. When Liz stepped in to give Roger his medicine that afternoon he clutched at her hand in a tight grip. 

“It’s OK Rog, I’m just here to get you to take some medicine.” she assured him but he didn’t relent. Liz straightened up the bedsheets and put a cold compress on his forehead but that didn’t seem to be working for him at all. 

“So hot,” he complained incoherently. 

“I know hon, but that’s the fever. We need to get it down.” 

“Mom?” Liz knew sick people often regressed so she did not want to make him worse. “Mom? I’m hot; make it go away.” 

“You’re putting me in a real weird position, Roger,” she sighed, glancing up and seeing Freddie at the door. The singer gave her a nod so she glanced back at her sick friend. “all right..” she sang him a little lullaby to help ease him into sleep. Freddie walked over to her chair and gave his friend a squeeze on her shoulder. 

“He’s not any better is he?” 

“No.” John peered into the room and asked how it was going. 

“He’s really sick, John.” Freddie silently agreed with his eyes as the bassist came closer to them, putting his hand on Roger’s forehead. When the drummer muttered something to himself and turned away, John glanced up at the others remembering when Liz was sick. 

“Hmmmm.. When you were sick in college I gave you a cold bath.” 

“I forgot about that. Anyway I can’t lift Roger. None of us really can.” 

“No but I have an idea.” 

John’s idea was unorthodox but it was better than nothing. He put a tarp down on the floor, they maneuvered Roger onto it, then all of them brought in buckets of snow from outside. Liz kept one hand on Roger’s wrist to monitor his pulse while the other two packed the snow around and over Roger to try to cool him down. “How’s he doing?” John wore his ski pants and boots as he knelt down, lifting the heavy wet snow on top of Roger. Freddie was on the other side, swearing as the snow melted off of Roger even before he’d finished packing it in. 

“He’s pretty stable. Don’t forget his face.” she scooped up some snow, packed it into an oblong shape and put it on Roger’s forehead. 

“What is this?” Brian glanced into the room, an expression of confusion clear on his face as John marched back into the room with a fresh bucket of snow. Freddie shoveled some onto Roger’s chest while Liz kept monitoring their ill friend’s pulse. 

“Snowman building session, Bri!” Freddie grinned. “Be a dear and grab us some more snow, will you?”

“Trying to get his fever down, eh? Is it working?” 

“Some. His fever has dropped a degree and a half. I hate keeping him on Tylenol because it’s so rough on the liver.” 

“Switch him over on ibuprofen,” John suggested. “how long do we have to keep him like this?”

“We can stop now. His fever dropped a little bit so that’s progress.” the men cleaned up the snow, Liz toweled down Roger, they put him in comfortable pajamas and back in bed. Freddie and John folded up the tarp, drained the snow and water from the tarp into the bathtub. Brian set the buckets in the lean to and watched as John gave Roger some ibuprofen. 

**

Over the next several hours Roger responded to the ibuprofen and finally they began to see the fever drop, little by little. On the second day after his collapse, late into the night, Freddie crept into the room to check on his ill friend. “How are you doing, Rog?” he brushed his hand across Roger’s forehead, happy to see that Roger appeared to be much more restful. “My god you’re sweating like a pig!” the singer took a clean washcloth and mopped Roger’s face down. 

“Freddie..” the drummer moaned, his eyes open enough so Freddie saw a slice of blue. 

“I’m here, Rog. We’re all worried about you.” 

“Was my mom here?”

“What? No.” the singer paused as Roger opened up his eyes halfway. 

“Could have sworn I heard her.” 

“We’ll figure that one out later, Rog. Go back to sleep.” 

When the morning came, John woke up to see that the snow had stopped and it was sunny outside. He smiled happily, snuggling up with Liz for a moment, kissing her neck to see if that would wake her up. 

“John… John!” she laughed. “Someone’s in a good mood today!” 

“Are you up for a little morning hump session?”

“I usually don’t do that. Can we save it for later?” she turned to face him. 

“All right then. By the way your letter from Ben fell out of your box the other day. I read the PS.” 

“Oh. Isn’t it interesting? My coma induced state causes me to dream about someone who is hundreds of miles away that we barely know.” she bumped her nose to John’s with a smile. 

“I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”

“I would say no. We are just friends.” 

“Good. I like him. He seems to be a nice guy and have you sent him a ticket to the show in London yet?”

“I was going to ask Miami about that tomorrow.” 

“Good idea.” John started to kiss her and climbed on top of her just as the door opened and Freddie stood there already looking amused.

“You slip it to her this early, eh?” he laughed. “Roger’s fever finally broke a few minutes ago. He is going to be just fine.” 

“Oh good. We will just be a few minutes.” 

“That all it takes now?” the singer teased and shut the door. John rolled his eyes as he straddled Liz, asking if she went to bed naked again. 

“You have to ask?”

**

An hour later Brian and John checked in on Roger who was sleeping soundly and unwilling to wake him up, both men decided to go and play outside in the snow, dragging Freddie with them. 

“Snowball fight!”

“Whoever loses gets to whitewash Freddie!” Brian mocked happily, winding up a scarf and pulling on mittens. 

“Oh shit! You know I’m more athletic than either of you!” Freddie threw on his gear and stormed out the door. “I’ll get you both!” 

Liz laughed as the three of them engaged in a snowball fight and wrestling match outside on the front lawn. It looked like Brian would win already, easily being the tallest one but Freddie jabbed him with an uppercut while John tried to jump him and get him in a headlock. “This could go on for hours!” 

In Roger’s room she went with a water bottle. Brian had already fed Roger half an hour earlier and given him some more medicine. The room was dark with the blinds down and the medic heard Roger’s slow and shallow breathing meaning that he was sleeping. Liz crossed over to the chair John had put there after the session with the snow and sat down, watching her friend sleep intently. Everyone of the band was so cute when they were asleep and Roger was no exception. Finally he was sleeping soundly and without the fever that had held him hostage for a few days. 

“So glad you’re well again or at least getting there.” she mumbled, pushing her curly hair away from her face. “Then you can go out and join the snowball fight.” 

Roger lazily opened up one eye to see her sitting there. “Liz?” 

“Hey, hon,” she greeted him. “having a good sleep so far?” 

“Better now that you’re here.” he sounded better but Liz didn’t like how weak he sounded. 

“The others are outside having a snowball fight. Brian and John against Freddie.” 

Roger smirked a little bit. “Good luck on that one. Freddie’s the most athletic one we have.” 

“You’ll be mended in no time,” the medic reassured him quietly. “then you can go out and join their little reindeer games.” 

“No doubt,” he agreed sleepily. “I dreamt my mom was here.” 

“You talked about her in your sleep,” a half truth, Liz made an excuse to herself, not wishing to embarrass him. She pulled his covers up to his chest helpfully as Roger made a noise of pleasure. “to sleep with you now.” 

“OK, Mom..” he teased as he went back to sleep, not seeing Liz’s expression of familiar annoyance but then she smiled. 

“Sleep tight, honey.”


	12. Gunshot

12: Robbery Gone Wrong

 

Freddie and John were browsing around a thrift shop on their day off from touring; Freddie was engrossed in paintings and pottery, John was looking around for a gift to buy for Liz. His gaze lingered on an ornate looking pewter hummingbird pendant necklace with rubies on the breast of the bird. 

“Checking out our ruby throated hummingbird necklace, eh?” a sales clerk asked happily, watching the bassist’s eyes grow bigger as he picked up the necklace and watched the precious stones catch the light from the big picture windows. 

“Oh yes. Is this pewter?” 

“Actually that’s silver-it hasn’t been polished in awhile. May I?” the clerk took the necklace and rubbed a chamois buffing cloth over the silver. In a few minutes the bird was in John’s hand, gleaming like new. “If you like, we have earrings that match,” John was shown a pair of stud earrings that also had rubies shaped like a triangle. “these are trillium flowers; the bright colors attract hummingbirds.” 

“Do they really?” the trillium was the flower of Canada, he remembered. 

“Of course. The price here will be about eighty dollars with tax included.” 

“Get them, John! If you don’t, I will and we know I love giving jewelry to Liz!” Freddie peeked over his shoulder. 

“All right then,” John gave in easily, thinking of Liz’s expression when he presented her the gift. The clerk rang up his sale, he paid, took the small blue velvet box and put it on his pocket. Freddie wrapped up his own purchase; a small sculpture in bronze of an eagle perched on a stump. “that’s really nice, Freddie. I hope you have room in the house for it.” 

“We will make room-” Freddie was interrupted by a man shoving someone else out of the way and barreling into the shop. In an instant the man had pulled out a small 9 millimeter handgun, John grabbed Freddie and they ducked down behind the countertop as the robber aimed at the sales clerk. The poor girl’s eyes were wide with fear, one hand went up quickly as the other one slammed down on the silent panic alarm under the counter. 

“You bitch!” the robber shouted, brandishing the gun at the register and blowing it open. The clerk backed up into a glass display stand, terrified with silent tears running down her cheeks. With a growl of frustration, the robber punched her out with one hit to the back of the head, sending her into the glass display causing a terrific crash. John and Freddie watched horrified as she slid down to the floor by the window lying limply with blood coming out of many cuts. 

“Damn..” John whispered. 

“Shh! With any luck he’ll empty the register and vamoose!” Freddie put his hand over John’s mouth as they watched the robber grab fistfuls of money from the till. 

“What the fuck?” there wasn’t a large amount of cash in the till, much to the robber’s dismay. He counted out the money again but it only totaled to about two hundred dollars all told. It was a shop full of curiosities and some jewelry-he could sell some of it to make some more cash. The robber began to loot all the jewelry he could find, then was on his way out when he saw two shadows behind the sales counter. 

“You two! Don’t you belong to a band?!” the 9 millimeter wavered in the robber’s hand as Freddie looked at John with ‘oh shit’ written all over his face. The bassist was the least recognizable of the band; only true fans would recognize him off the stage due to the fact people only focused on Freddie instead. Now was the time John could be proud of not being recognized. 

“Of course not,” he grinned nervously, shifting his position. “do I look like that type of person?” 

“Good point. But you!” Freddie found the gun in his face. “I know you from a band!” 

“Put that thing away! You know how many people get killed with guns nowadays?” Freddie rudely dismissed him, standing up. 

“Freddie! Shhh! You want to end up like her?” John hissed. 

“At least one of you is sensible!” the robber sneered, taking a menacing step towards Freddie. The singer was not perturbed in the least, turning in the direction of the bloody clerk. Before he could kneel down and tend to the poor girl, the robber grabbed Freddie and threw him into a glass window out onto the sidewalk. Freddie crashed down onto the bricks, hit his head and fainted. 

The faint wailing of sirens became closer as John panicked, running to the Freddie print in the window panel. “Freddie!” 

“Get back here!” the robber demanded. When the bassist ignored him, pulling at the door and about to bolt into the sidewalk, a loud gunshot was heard. John didn’t register it at first; he was too busy getting to Freddie and making sure that he was still alive. 

“SHIT!” John heard the robber drop the bag filled with merchandise and a rather low amount of money and take off down the side street. Freddie moaned, cracking one eye open, wincing as a searing pain overtook his senses. “Freddie!” the bassist felt something hot drip down onto his left palm. His vision became blurry for some reason but he focused on his friend. 

The singer was looking at John in abject horror as the blood drained out of his face. “What is it?” more heat seemed to envelope his left arm completely. 

“You’re… my god, you’re..” Freddie whispered. “look at you..” 

“I’m?” John looked down at his hand. “Bleeding!” he followed the rivulets of blood to their source and saw there was a neat bullet hole in his left shoulder. “I’ve been shot!” realization sank in as his vision became too blurry and he slumped over next to Freddie. 

“You’ll make it, John,” the singer breathed as the sirens screamed onto the scene. John seemed stunned, his breath was becoming more labored amid shouting from the first responders. “focus! People don’t die from these kinds of wounds.” he was lying and John knew it. Gunshot wounds could be highly fatal if they sever a major artery and vice versa. Freddie’s fingers fastened on to John’s to give him some support while he was still conscious enough to receive it. “Take care of… Liz.. if I don’t.. make it..” he gasped as a paramedic put an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. The singer was horrified to hear that kind of talk coming from John, the most level headed one of the band but he couldn’t articulate a response. 

“Sir! Can you hear me?” the EMT asked, slipping a blood-oxygen saturation clip on one finger. John’s eyes slid shut as another EMT spread a blanket over him. “He’s gone into shock! Let’s take him in.” 

“He’s got a GSW upper left chest area! Call dispatch and tell them we’re taking him in! The second ambulance will be here in half a tick!” right on cue more sirens screeched into the parking lot. 

“John!.. my god.. don’t take him.. from… me...” Freddie rasped as more EMTs came swarming over him. “Girl in the store… she’s hurt too..” 

“Check the store!” one person yelled. “Mr. Mercury says there’s another casualty in there!” 

“On it!” 

The scene swam in front of Freddie’s eyes until everything blended together and formed a spiraling blackness that made his eyes close. The singer relinquished his fight on keeping conscious; figuring it would be better to sleep in darkness. It was just as well for him as he knew it would be awhile before they found out anything about John. The EMTs applied temporary bandages to Freddie’s injuries, covered him in a blanket, strapped him down in a gurney and took him into the hospital.

**

“What do you think of this outfit, Roger?” Liz entered the hotel room wearing a zebra striped peacoat that was unbuttoned; she was wearing nothing under it which fired up his imagination, and a black miniskirt with an oversized white rhinestone studded belt. 

“I think it could be you,” the drummer was quite fashion conscious so Liz liked consulting either him or Freddie. Roger walked up to his friend, released the butterfly clip that was holding her hair back and instructed her to turn her head to the left so her hair rested on her left shoulder. “is this something new for John? Mixing it up in the bedroom are we?” 

“Like I’d tell you,” she teased, running her hands down the sides of the peacoat teasingly. “we have our secrets and I like to dress it up a little. This peacoat is excellent because it has this,” Liz pulled two triangles of black fabric that was at her chest and fastened it. “from downright skanky to mildly slutty.” 

“I think this necklace that Freddie found would work as well.” Roger picked up one of Freddie’s thrift store finds; a necklace that had heavy metallic beads with sequins and black gemstones set into it and put it on Liz’s neck expertly. 

“Oh good one. Did you see Brian’s latest acquisition?” Liz pulled off the peacoat in front of Roger, put on her red button up shirt, then changed into a more decent length skirt, tossing the mini aside. 

“Which one?” the guitarist had bought a black and white pinstriped suit lately but Roger didn’t think that was on Liz’s mind. 

“The black peacoat with the spider webs on it.” the medic tossed herself onto the bed beside Roger, picking up Freddie’s snake bracelet. It was too big on her but she thought it gave Freddie a little edge. Like a snake you never knew what to expect from Freddie who was a total wild animal out of its cage when he stepped onto a stage. 

“I like Freddie’s black and gold brocade one better,” Roger fluffed out his blonde hair, sitting on the bed in his leather pants with a black undershirt over his own peacoat which was black with white patterned flowers. “He’s got definite style.” 

“I thought the black and white sequin gloves were dumb,” Liz admitted. “he found a way to work it but I wouldn’t be caught wearing them. I ogle John when he wears the tight white pants.” 

Roger roared with laughter, slumping down so his head was on Liz’s back. “You got him to wear those? They’re so tight! Do you have to help him into them and as a reward does he slip it to you backstage?!”

“Yes.” Liz deadpanned as Brian rushed into the room, a frightened look on his face which startled both of them. 

“Bri, take a breath,” Roger directed. “sit down before you fall.” 

“Guys,” Brian sat on the opposite bed, exhaling slowly to try to get himself under control. “Freddie and John have been in some trouble.” 

“What sort of trouble this time? Freddie’s big mouth go off in the wrong direction?” 

“It’s much worse. The shop they were browsing in got robbed while they were in there.” 

“Are they all right?” 

“They both got hurt. The tour manager just got a call so he just told me.” 

“Did they get the guy?”

“They’re still hunting for him. The security camera shows that the robber threw the poor clerk into a glass display case so she’s being patched up-nothing serious for her thank god. Freddie did shoot his mouth off and he got thrown through the window. He’s concussed and beat up pretty good but he should be all right. John,” Brian paused as his eyes grew bright. “Liz, the robber panicked and as John was checking Freddie over he got shot.” 

“Oh my god,” Liz’s jaw dropped open. “do they know where?”

“In the shoulder I think they said.” 

“That’s not too bad. Bad enough. Let’s head down there and be with our pals.” Brian and Roger gave her a hand up from the bed, grabbed their coats and left.

**

In the hospital the three of them had barely entered the emergency room when they heard Freddie’s voice in one of the rooms. “Damnit that stings!” Grinning, Liz and Brian moved in the direction of the room they thought they heard Freddie in. 

“I think he’s in here.” Roger knocked and opened up the door to see Freddie lying on a gurney and letting a nurse clean his wounds. “I thought that would be you.” 

The singer had a clean blue drape over his left arm that had a three inch long cut on it from the glass. Freddie cursed again as the nurse removed the syringe from his arm and disposed of it. “The resident will be in soon to stitch up this cut.” 

“I’m a paramedic, I can do that.” Liz offered, taking the instrument tray and opening up the sterile package of needles and thread. “What about our friend John?” Freddie watched her, mildly interested in what she was doing. He’d only woken up about ten minutes ago and hadn’t even been able to ask after John yet. Roger sat at the foot of the bed to watch Liz at work, his blue eyes following her every move. 

“They are taking him into a procedure room in about ten minutes. The doctor wants to talk to you first so he’ll be right in.” 

“Does Freddie need an x-ray of his head or anything?” Brian inquired as he sat down in a vinyl chair. 

“He’s already had an x-ray which shows no skull fracture but we do want to monitor him overnight for any delayed effects from the concussion.” 

“How bad is it? Mild? Moderate?” Brian piped up from his chair, hazel eyes keen on the nurse as Freddie’s brown eyes followed suit. Liz threaded a needle, positioning herself and the light where she needed it. 

“I see Ms. Hammond here has been educating you,” the nurse smiled. “Mr. Mercury here has a moderate concussion so he needs to rest for at least two days. We’ve given him some pain relief so don’t be surprised if he gets sleepy.” 

“Right.” the three bandmembers watched as Liz expertly began stitching Freddie’s cut shut. She wove a neat line of sutures in almost no time, soaked some gauze in water, then put dry gauze over it, taping it down over the sutures. 

“A wet-to-dry dressing is what’s needed when you deal with skin,” she announced, setting the used instrument tray aside. “the skin needs to stay damp for it to heal properly. Anyway we should check on John.” 

Right on cue a doctor entered the room. “Mr. Mercury here is our reluctant patient for tonight,” the doctor shook hands with everyone in greeting. “I need someone to sign for Mr. Deacon’s treatment. He still hasn’t regained consciousness yet.” 

“I can do it,” Liz volunteered, standing up. “where is he?” 

“He’s in the procedure room right over here. I want to assure you all that it’s not major surgery-the bullet went into his muscle and fortunately didn’t break anything. I will get it out with no issues, he’s going to be sore for awhile but no permanent damage. Mr. Deacon’s is on oxygen right now so he can’t talk even if he was conscious but that’s due to the shock.” 

Liz nodded. Freddie was already drifting away because of the pain relievers but Roger and Brian understood completely. 

“Would you like to assist?” the doctor offered Liz. “Have you done this before?” 

“Yes I have. I’ve removed bullets in the field when doctors couldn’t get in,” she informed him. Liz put on a scrub shirt, tied her hair back, then went into the procedure room with the doctor. John was lying on a gurney covered from the chest down with EKG electrodes dotting his chest. He was still on oxygen like the doctor said, but his eyes were open now. “It’s all right babe, I’m here now,” she walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “you’ve got a gunshot wound yes, but you won’t need major surgery to fix the damage. The doctor here is going to dig that slug out of you and you will be all set.” 

“Freddie?” John inquired looking a little anxious. One of the paramedics had cut his shirt off to attend to the bullet wound properly so he was a little cold in that room. Liz put a warmed blanket over his torso and gave him another one for the waist down. 

“He’ll be all right. I stitched up some of his deep cuts on his arms, he’s got a medium grade concussion so he’ll be staying overnight just to be sure.” Liz answered, pushing back a few locks of his hair before covering it. “There’s some accidents tonight and most of the nurses are all tied up so guess who is going to help out here?” 

“Oh.” John wasn’t in any condition to prolong a conversation. She could see the pain etched onto his face as she supposed the wound was probably throbbing and white hot by now. 

Two nurses were readying the equipment, one was applying a sterile drape over John’s bullet wound, removing the temporary dressing the EMTs had put on. One nurse was just starting to put an IV in the back of John’s left hand when she looked up at Liz and smiled. 

“Is he giving you crap?” Liz signed the clipboard. 

“A bit. We heard you are an EMT and travel with the band so would you like to do the honors?” 

“You don’t have to ask me twice. First off we don’t put the IV in the injured appendage,” Liz moved the rolling cabinet to John’s right side. She pulled out the IV catheter, a roll of surgical tape, a sticky tape square and a blue elastic tourniquet. “all right, John. Do you hear me?” she looked him right in the eye. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’re going to dig that slug out of your shoulder,” she informed him, tying the tourniquet tight. “we need to get it out and let you heal.” 

“Will you sedate me for it?” he asked warily. 

“What do you take us for?” Liz teased him. “This isn’t medieval times, John. I wouldn’t let you suffer.” she pulled on gloves, checked for a vein and was happy when a good candidate popped up. Liz cleaned the skin with an alcohol swab, dried it, then uncapped the catheter needle. She quickly poked the needle into the vein and was rewarded with a spurt of dark blood. Liz taped the needle down, took a syringe full of saline, screwed it to the IV tubing and began to push some of the solution slowly into John’s veins. 

“You’re gonna feel this, John,” she warned. “it’s going to be a slight flush.” 

“Right.” he did feel it; a slight salty feeling entered into his bloodstream and dissipated as his body got used to it. 

“Did you give him any pain medicine?” 

“We gave him about two milliliters of Lorazepam just to take the edge off,” the doctor swung into view as Liz used the sticky square to put over the IV site. A nurse unraveled the tubing and plugged John into the saline bag, then turned to the doctor. “all right, John, I’ve got some medicine to you to sleep so we can get that slug out of your shoulder.” 

“OK,” John watched as the doctor fitted the syringe to his IV port. “take good care of me.” 

“Of course.” the bassist’s eyelids drifted shut with a last little smile to Liz. 

The bullet extraction procedure was very simple. Liz watched and aided the doctor as he proceeded to fish the bullet out of John’s muscle. John’s oxygen-blood saturation rate improved a lot so the nurses switched him into a cannula. After about fifteen minutes of probing around carefully the doctor found the bullet and extracted it successfully. 

“So does this have to go to the police as evidence?” 

“Yeah. It needs to be cleaned up and bagged.” one of the nurses took care of that. Liz assisted the doctor in suturing up the muscle and skin layers, prepped the wet-to-dry bandage and taped it down. “Mr. Deacon here can still play the guitar but when he’s not onstage he might want to use this sling to keep his arm and shoulder relaxed.” the two of them put the sling on John. 

“All right! We can put him in the room with Mr. Mercury and keep an eye on them.” the medic unplugged the EKG leads and wires, disconnected the cannula and with the help of a nurse, took John into the room with Freddie. 

Brian and Roger watched her as she reconnected John to the oxygen port behind his bed, turning on the nozzle accordingly. 

“Is he OK?” Liz nodded as she plugged the leads back into the monitor, pushing on the screen some buttons. 

“See? His heart rate is about 90 which is excellent. Neither one of them is going to wake up any time soon so we can go back to the hotel.” 

“Sure?”

“Yeah. I’m tired.” Roger smiled as Liz kissed John on the cheek. “Back in the morning, darlings.” the two bandmembers escorted Liz to the hotel to get some much needed rest. 

**

There was blood everywhere. Liz looked up to see four bodies littering an alleyway that was perfumed with the smell of gunpowder. She stood up shakily from where she had been leaning against a brick wall and began walking on rubbery legs to where her friends were lying. 

“What is going on?” the medic put her head in her hands for a moment as she tried to get her bearings but wound up feeling more disoriented. There was Brian with several stab wounds in his chest, his bright eyes fixed in an expression of shock. Roger was sitting upright with his blood splattered against the wall like he’d been impaled, Freddie similarly attacked with a great gaping wound in his throat. 

“Oh my god, John!” the bassist was lying lifeless right beside Freddie. Liz immediately fell to her knees, trying to find the source of his injuries but it was futile. Like Brian, John’s eyes were open and bore a similar look of horror. There wasn’t a pulse detectable on her boyfriend. 

“John..” she moaned, slumping over. 

“Liz?” someone was calling her and that someone grabbed her hands, making her reel back. 

“No! John… John...” 

“Liz, wake up.” Brian’s voice called. The medic blinked, realizing that she had been sleeping. Brian was next to her in bed looking at her worriedly. “Having a bad dream?” 

“My god,” Liz bit her lip. “I had a horrible dream, Bri.” 

Brian had never seen such a look of distress in Liz’s eyes before. Immediately he went into protective mode, curling her up close to him as Roger snored lightly in the bed adjacent. The medic accepted Brian’s embrace, reassured by his thumping heart that the dream was just a dream. “Do you want to talk about it, Liz?” 

“I dreamt you were all dead,” she admitted. “I’m a little upset.” 

“A little? You were moaning our names in your sleep.” 

Liz sighed, closing her eyes while still listening to Brian’s heart. He circled his arms around her, kissed the top of her head affectionately and gave her time to answer. “I saw all four of you in an alleyway, all dead, horribly mutilated. I don’t know what brought that dream on.” 

“Maybe the stress we’re under had a role to play?” he suggested. “John and Freddie get in the wrong place in the wrong time and the mind goes crazy; making up all these worst case scenarios.” 

“That’s got to be it. I need to calm down before I have an asthma attack.” Liz forced herself to breathe normally as the very mild tightness in her chest began to ease. 

“Think you can sleep now?” Brian asked after a few minutes. He didn’t hear any wheezing so guessed she had control. Liz’s breathing had changed, becoming more relaxed and shallow, meaning that she was asleep. The guitarist noted that she had been listening to his heart the entire time they talked so he guessed it had been reassuring to her. 

**

The next day Freddie had been discharged from the hospital with a stern warning not to overexert himself. Liz looked after John all day as Roger put himself on Freddie duty. Brian alternated, spending half the day with either injured person. 

On the second day John was discharged to recuperate back at the hotel. It was a hot summer day with a lot of humidity and pollen in the air and Liz was very uncomfortable. She went into one of the rooms that had Freddie in it, drew the shades down and checked on the singer. He was sound asleep in the air conditioning, looking very tranquil as Liz left. Roger and Brian had gone out to some local attraction and John was sitting on the bed reading a book he’d borrowed off of his girlfriend. 

The medic had taken some Benadryl earlier to ease her congestion and she could tell it was starting to work as she walked over to the bed; her eyes were wavering and feeling heavy. Liz listlessly plopped herself down next to John who smiled at her. 

“Brian told me about your dream.” 

“Ugh. You’re going to bring this up just as I pass out?” she grumbled. 

John leaned forward and touched the side of her face. “Did you take Benadryl?” 

“Half an hour ago and I’m sleepy as hell.” she answered back, her words a little slurred. 

“Anyway I know what’s going on with you. Come on, move up.” he adjusted himself so Liz could put her head on his good shoulder. “I know you’ll feel much better when you wake up. How much did you take?” 

“Standard dose.” 

“Good. I want you to sleep well.” John kissed Liz deeply but she had fallen asleep pretty quickly. 

While John had been recuperating in the hospital Liz and Roger had gone up to the cafe for a little supper when Brian told the bassist that Liz had a nightmare the previous night. 

“She said she dreamed of all of us dead in an alley or something,” the guitarist reported. “she was upset over it but I talked her down a little bit. I think the anxiety of what happened to you two got to her.” 

“Everyone has bad dreams but I see your point.” 

Now John rubbed Liz’s hands, kissed her lips sweetly, “Sweet dreams sweetheart.”


	13. fire

Chapter 13: Fire!

“So Liz, do you think that my voice has gotten any better?” Freddie teased as they walked around backstage. “Come on, spill!” 

“Whatever do you mean, Freddie? Roger’s got the dog whistle type voice. You sound the same.” she mocked him as they entered the storage area. “What is it that Ratty wanted from here?” 

“An amp. One of Bri’s VOX amps or something,” Freddie grabbed something electrical and rectangular, parading off to the stage with a big grin on his face like a dog expecting a reward for his good deed. John accepted the amp from him and plugged it into the power strip, winding the cable into the outlet off into the wing of the stage. 

“Aren’t we going to totally kill them tonight?” Roger rattled his drum set, picking up a set of sticks and whacking a cymbal with gusto. 

“Sure you will! Do you know how many girls get lightheaded when they see you guys live?” Liz picked up Freddie’s microphone and struck a pose. “I’m supposed to cater only to your four and not your fans! Keep this up and you’ll need to hire local first aid crews.” 

“Put my mike down, medic girl!” Freddie appeared behind her. Liz put the mike behind her back and backed up with a giggle. 

“No and you can’t make me!” she jumped down from the stage, unplugging the mike and running off towards the back of the auditorium, giggling all the way. 

“Super Freddie to the rescue!” he put his hands on his hips, jumped down and chased Liz. John ambled onstage, picked up his bass and began riffing. Roger joined him, followed by Brian, then Freddie strutted on the stage with his mike in hand. Liz sprang at him from the opposite wing, sat at the piano with a goofy look on her face. 

“I’m Freddie Mercury! Derpy derpy derp!” she improvised wildly, making everyone laugh. 

“You bitch!” he laughed as he joined her on the bench. “No, put your fingers like this!” Freddie began to teach her the G chord as Roger pounded out a beat with the bass drum. John began alternating tempos as Brian matched him on the guitar. 

“There you go!” Freddie taught her a simple tune and beamed at her. “Think you’ll switch from a bass player to dating a pianist?” 

“Oh Freddie!” Liz laughed, putting her head on his shoulder playfully, looking at him through sly eyes. “No.” 

“Oh, you’ve crushed my fragile ego!” he protested, one hand over his heart. “I will never recover from this slight!” 

“Your ego can’t be crushed with a twenty pound sledgehammer!” Liz teased him as she alternated between flats and sharps.

“I’m impenetrable!” Freddie puffed himself up a little bit, sticking his nose up in the air. 

“Tell that to the guy you banged last night,” Liz retorted, getting up from the bench. “whoa yeah!” Roger nearly fell over laughing, tapping out a classic rim shot. 

“Oh you! Up yours!” he fussed, turning back to the piano. 

“Very witty original response, Freddie! The crowds will be in momentarily. I’ll be in the back, dozing off like a happy sheep.” 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Brian teased. “Are we so boring to you now?” 

“Now now.. I’m your medic and I have to be on alert for what happens after the show. If Roger trips over your wire, Brian, and breaks his neck, I have to deal with it.” she smoothed over Brian’s little ruffled feathers, leaving her friend shaking his head slightly at her antics with a little grin. 

“All right, all right!” he giggled to let her know that he wasn’t taking it personally. “Go off and doze in the back like a good and well rested girl!” 

“Your wish is my command.” she bowed and retreated to the green room. Lounging on the couch Liz began to fall into a deep sleep as the show went on.

**

“Thank you everyone! I’d like to fuck each and every one of you!” Freddie announced to the crowd as they left the auditorium. He handed the mike to Ratty, then all of them marched offstage as the house lights came up and the stage lights dimmed down. John and Brian handed their guitars off to their respective roadies and went backstage to the green room. 

“What on earth is that smell?” very thick acrid smoke met their nostrils as a very hot heat greeted them. “What’s going on back there?” 

“Fire!” someone called out. “Evacuate the building!” 

“Where’s Liz? Liz!” John shouted, poised to go back into the green room to save his girlfriend but he was being yanked away by a few of the bodyguards so he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. “Stop! My girlfriend’s back there!” 

Roger and Freddie were similarly being wrenched away but Brian broke free of his bodyguard’s hold and jumped into the fray, yelling, “I’ll get her!” being the tallest one he could easily see danger coming and evade it; he sprang aside as a coat rack fell down. With his eyes already tearing up from the smoke he ducked down lower as he ran, trying to keep under the heat and intensity. The guitar player quickly vanished from sight as the bodyguards tried to go after him but a burning beam got in their way. 

Freddie stopped resisting as did Roger and John as they watched their friend disappear from sight calling Liz’s name. “Godspeed, Brian!” the singer screamed, brow furrowed in worry for both the medic and guitarist. 

The rest of the band was ushered out into the alleyway while the fire engines screeched to a halt with an ambulance ready just in case. John rubbed one side of his face and was surprised when his hand came away all sooty. Roger and Freddie had a fine layer of soot on them as well but nobody was bothered about that at the moment. Firefighters swarmed over their engine and began connecting up the hose to the hydrant nearby. Roger doubled over in a coughing fit followed by John so two of the firefighters gave them oxygen masks so they could breathe properly. 

Freddie watched the raging flames in horror as the firefighters broke down the door with their axes and dived into the inferno. “Brian!” he called. “Liz! You’ve got to help them!” he turned towards the other firefighters. “My friends are in there!” he was bordering on panic when Roger reached up and tugged at his hand. 

“Sit, Freddie,” he told the singer. “They’ll help-” choked by smoke, Roger gasped and started hacking roughly. The three of them sat on the kickboard of the fire engine, hoping that the firefighters would be able to get Brian and Liz out safely. 

**

“Liz!” Brian called out as he stood at the top of the stairs. Taking a few cautious steps he dashed down the rest of them, dodging falling debris left and right until he reached the green room door. The guitarist summoned up his strength then threw himself against the door which opened up. He could barely see Liz lying on the couch amid the smoke. 

Remembering firefighting week at his primary school, Brian got down low underneath the smoke until he saw a familiar outline. “Liz!” he coughed a few times. The medic was actually lying on the floor with her inhaler in one hand. She must have awakened smelling the smoke and got her inhaler out but fainted before she could use it, he thought. Brian tucked her inhaler into his pocket, then picked her up off the floor. 

The way out was blocked by a few burning beams from the ceiling and Brian was starting to get lightheaded until he saw a faint outline at the bottom of the door. A sharp blade showed through the heavy oak door as Brian watched. He took a step back then realized Liz was too heavy, he was weakening as well. Setting her down the guitarist lay down next to her so he could steal a breath of air. 

It didn’t work. Brian choked and began hacking, not noticing the burning beam which had started wobbling precariously next to him. The beam buckled with a very loud crack then immediately plunged downwards, landing on top of Brian’s abdomen, pinning him down. The guitarist tried to release himself from the beam but it was much too heavy. He started swearing a blue streak, culminating in a roar of angry frustration which alerted the firefighter who had broken into the room. 

“Are you Brian?” the firefighter knelt down in front of him. The guitarist nodded, wheezing, then felt something trickle out of the corner of his mouth. Blood! A searing pain burned itself into his mind then he realized that the fire had given him a burn on his left arm. More pain engulfed his senses and he fainted. 

“Home base! Home base!” the firefighter called into his radio. “Two casualties! One female and one male, I think Mr. May and Ms. Hammond! Send another person in to assist!” 

On the other side of the door, John heard the radio but he couldn’t do anything as another firefighter ran into the back entrance to help. Shivering, the bassist pulled the woolen blanket closer around his shoulders as the three of them waited anxiously for word. Freddie leaned into his friend, putting his arm around his shoulders for moral support. 

“I need them to be OK. Please be OK.” Freddie prayed as the smoke stung his eyes. Roger took a lungful of air from the mask and clapped Freddie on the back in wordless support. 

John folded his hands together as he said a prayer in his head. It seemed like hours until the firefighters brought out Brian and Liz but it was only for a few minutes. 

“We’ve got them!” a shout was heard. The bandmembers looked up as two firefighters came up, each one bearing a body in their arms. They deposited Brian and Liz on gurneys, attached oxygen masks to them and took them into the ambulances waiting. 

“How are they?” Freddie got up into the ambulance with Brian, Roger stayed with John and Liz. “What is going on with Brian? Why can’t he wake up?” 

“He’s got carbon monoxide poisoning,” the EMT told him shortly, clapping a clip on one of Brian’s long fingers. “Mr. May was conscious when they found him but the smoke got to him as he began coughing and wheezing. He was pinned down to the ground by a beam on fire and it was right on his belly; he’s also got a few second degree burns on him. He needs oxygen therapy and to be watched for awhile. They’ll probably take some x rays of his abdomen to be sure he didn’t suffer something more serious. The same goes for your other friend.” 

“Right.” Freddie agreed, sitting down on the bench seat to watch the paramedics take care of his friend. 

**

At the hospital, Brian and Liz were put into a room and were put on oxygen therapy. Freddie was examined and cleared, John was cleared as well, but the doctor admitted Roger for the night on oxygen therapy as well. 

“No way! I’m not as bad as them!” he finished his statement and doubled over in a wheezing fit. The drummer reluctantly listened to the doctor, asking if he could be roomed with his friends. Fortunately the hospital was able to accommodate them for once though technically speaking it was against the fire code. Brian, Liz and Roger were in one room with curtains as dividers, all of them were on oxygen therapy. Roger asked for something to help him sleep which he received happily. 

“I never could sleep in such a busy place as this.” John smiled down at his friend. 

“How long are they going to stay unconscious?” Freddie flagged down a nurse. 

“That depends. Mr. May was conscious when they found him so it should not be long for him. Ms. Hammond we don’t really know how long she was unconscious for before she was found so it’s anyone’s guess.” 

“Oh.” Freddie stretched out in the vinyl recliner. “I think I’ll camp out here for the rest of the night.” 

John did the same, accepting a warmed blanket from a nurse, turning over in his chair so that he was facing his girlfriend. Liz bore some first degree burns on her face which made her look like she had sunburn in her cheeks but apart from that she didn’t look very bad. Brian had undergone an x ray which did not reveal much damage apart from a few fractured ribs. The doctors had taped up his ribs, bandaged up his second degree burns and now they were waiting for them to wake up to check their pain levels. 

**

Something was burning. Liz’s eyes sprang open as she smelled the smoke, tried to sit up from where she was on the couch but for some reason she felt like she couldn’t move. It reminded her of being a paramedic on the front lines of a fire or burning building. The smoke had stupefied her, carbon monoxide poisoning was taking place fast. She had to get her inhaler and try to clear out the smoke before she went into a full on attack. Every second was urgent as the medic fumbled in her pocket, took a healing puff, but before she could do anything else she dropped the device on the floor. Swearing to herself, she reached over and fell off the couch. 

Someone was calling her name. Actually they were crying it out, screaming it, etc. Loud thumps and bangs were heard but Liz wasn’t concentrating anymore. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open now, though despite knowing she shouldn’t, she closed her eyes to submit to the blackness. 

“Liz? Liz, wake up!” 

The medic tried to talk, wanted to say something but it wasn’t her words that failed her-it was the lack of breath in her lungs. Liz cracked open her eyes a little bit to see John looking worriedly at her. His right hand on the side of her bed and leaning down so he was less than three inches from her face. 

“Give me her inhaler there, Freddie,” John was handed the inhaler, already recognizing the early signs of an impending asthma attack in his girlfriend. “thanks. Liz, you know what to do.” 

After a few moments and a few quick healing breaths later Liz was composed enough to talk. Freddie gave her water which helped clear the smoke from her throat and sat on the edge of her bed. The medic could see Roger and Brian were sleeping near her so her first question was about them. 

“Roger and Brian breathed in a lot of smoke. If Brian doesn’t rouse soon they might have to use the hyperbaric chamber to get the rest of the smoke out of his lungs.” John reported to her, smoothing away her lank black hair from her face. 

“We should all be out of here tomorrow,” Freddie cheerfully told Liz, taking one of her hands. “we will bounce back like always!” 

“Of course we will. How bad did they get hurt?” 

“Roger just had smoke inhalation. Brian went back into the green room to fetch you. He found you all right but they told us he was pinned down by a burning beam. Bri had an x ray and it showed he fractured a few ribs but that was it. He doesn’t need surgery or anything.” 

“That’s good at least,” Liz rasped. John gave her more water from the bedside tray. “we need a day to recuperate.” 

“That’s what we will get.” the singer reassured her. “Right now we need to sleep. The smoke fucking stung my eyes.” 

“All right, go to sleep, Freddie.” he got up, still holding her hand for a moment then reluctantly let go. 

John drew his chair right up to Liz, taking both of her hands in his and looked her right in the eyes, bringing his face to less than three inches from her own. Hazel eyes met gray as he studied her for a long moment and didn’t say a word. 

“I’m very pleased that you didn’t suffer damage to your lungs.” was all he said but Liz knew that he was really saying he was very happy she didn’t have other serious injuries. The last thing the bassist wanted was to count the minutes on a wall clock while Liz had to undergo some complicated surgery while subconsciously worrying whether she would die or not. 

“I’m glad I made it out alive.” Liz was starting to fall asleep quickly. John gave her a kiss and before he lifted his lips off of hers he could tell that she was asleep. 

“Me too.” lying back on the recliner the bassist fell asleep, comforted in the knowledge his friends were well looked after.


	14. Brian's Ulcer

Chapter 14: Brian’s Ulcer

 

“So what do you think, Bri?” Liz sat at the makeup station and had taped a fake mustache to her finger. Bringing her finger up to her upper lip she turned and smiled at the guitarist, crossing her eyes for a moment. John came in from the dressing room, spied his girlfriend looking goofy and started to laugh. Roger followed his friend, sprawling out on the couch with a grunt of comfort and contentment. The drummer gazed over at Liz who had stood up, looking a little hurt that Brian wasn’t laughing at her antics. 

“That doesn’t tickle your fancy, Bri?” the medic was starting to look a bit concerned but Brian brushed her off politely, ignoring a flare of pain in his belly. 

“I think I have a little cold or something. Sorry, Liz.” he made an excuse, glancing over at Freddie who had just emerged. The singer was wearing black leather pants, Adidas sneakers and little else. He hoisted up his suspenders, adjusting the straps accordingly, then plunked a leather biker’s hat on his head. 

“YMCA!” Roger taunted lazily, giving Freddie a cheeky grin. 

“Your insults don’t work with Freddie the Great!” touching up his makeup, Freddie turned to Roger with his arms crossed, nose in the air. “I am above all ridicule!” 

“Nobody really is,” John challenged him. “a little humility goes a long way, Freddie.” 

“Freddie the Great knows no such word!” 

“Oh bullshit!” Liz exclaimed, nudging Roger on the couch. “Shove up so I can sit too, blondie!” 

“Why don’t you make me?” 

“Oh I’ll make you all right!” the medic pounced on the couch, grabbing Roger’s wrists and holding him down, all of her weight on his legs. She leaned up, long curly hair right in the drummer’s face to tease him as he tried to get away. “Say Liz is the greatest!” 

“Never!” the drummer struggled but Liz had a very strong and firm grip. 

“You’ll say it!” Liz knew that Roger hated to be tickled so she lowered her hair down, fluffing it out so it dangled into his face. 

“Oh god! Come on!” he tried to brush aside a lock of her hair but Liz was quite strong. “Gerroff me!” 

“No!” John smirked and nudged Brian while Freddie gave his hair a final comb out, turning to see what their medic was up to now. 

“Does the three ring circus ever stop around here?” he gave a theatrical flourish with his right hand. “Here’s the Roger versus Liz exhibit!” 

“Right,” John agreed as Roger sensed Liz was distracted in the way she was looking at Brian. In one move he dislodged Liz’s grip on his wrists, grabbed her and pinned her down on top of him. She kicked and struggled against him but Roger was too strong for her. “what on earth are you two doing?” 

“Payback is sweet!” somehow the drummer managed to sit and stand up with Liz in his grip. As soon as he was on his feet Liz stomped on one of them, causing him to drop her left wrist. The medic shoved her left elbow into his side so he dropped her other wrist. 

“Aha!” she ducked aside, turning a neat handspring, showing off, then winked at the others. “You can’t beat me, Roger!” 

“Oh yes I can!” the drummer recovered from the blow to his side and tore off after her as she ran onto the stage. Bemused, the rest followed except for Brian. 

The guitarist hung around backstage for a moment, wondering what was wrong with him that time. A few months ago he’d developed hepatitis from an infected needle and had spent nearly a month in the hospital to recover from it. They had to cut short a tour because his health had been so bad, ending in Liz forcing him to go to the hospital. Brian had just wanted to be home so after some initial treatment they brought him home. All of them admitted Brian into the hospital and a doctor Liz knew had been on call at that time. 

It had been a long excruciating month for him. Liz was his most frequent visitor, taking over his care for a part of the day. She had given him heparin shots, made sure that his saline bag was always full, then administered his medication. Brian was grateful for his friends stopping in once every few days to distract him from his dark thoughts as his depression was acting up again. Liz seemed to sense this as she had persuaded him to share his thoughts with her. 

Some days there were setbacks of course. Often times Brian was in too much pain to focus on anything so during one pain filled morning Liz had come in and seen for herself just how bad he was. She made Roger, Freddie and John sit down, then she called the nurse to give Brian a sedative. That day’s nurse was resentful of Liz and her power at the hospital and refused to comply so Liz and the doctor together fired her from Brian’s care. The doctor willingly gave Liz an intravenous medicine to put Brian to sleep which she administered. 

The guitarist barely remembered that day, seeing the colorless sedative given to him via IV, seeing his friend’s worried faces watching him, then nothing. 

“You ready, Bri?” Freddie stood at his friend’s side, Liz’s giggling reaching down to their ears. 

“Yeah, ready, Freddie.” he followed his friend up to the stage where Roger was trying to pin Liz down behind the piano. He ducked one way, she moved too fast and tripped, falling down rather gracefully into a pool of unwound cables. 

“Damn. Are you OK?” Roger and John both reached down to give her a hand up. Liz wobbled a little bit, swore, then sat on the piano bench, massaging her right knee. 

“I think I pulled a muscle on that one.” 

“Can you walk all right, darling?” Freddie drank a little bit of his singing drink from the cup on the piano while Brian put on his guitar for sound check. 

“I’ll manage. Your fault, Roger!” she stuck her tongue out playfully.

“What are you whining to me for?” the drummer slid into place behind the drum set. “John’s your personal crutch!” 

“He’s right you know,” John flashed her a big grin. “I should be thanking him.” 

“Maybe you should,” Liz’s eyes lit up. “anyway I’m glad that we’re close to home on this gig.” 

“Me too.” everyone agreed on that one. 

“Live in five!” one of the roadies announced. 

“That’s my cue to depart.” Liz got herself up from the piano bench and hobbled over to the wing where she sat during the entire first half of the concert. 

**

At the closing of the show Liz was sitting in the makeup chair, trying to get up the strength to stand up, collect her jacket and purse, then meet the others for the limo when Brian rushed by, looking a bit green in the face. 

“What is that about?” he evidently hadn’t seen her sitting there or she would not have been hearing the obvious retching sounds coming from the loo. When the guitarist had time to rinse out his mouth, exhale shakily, then come into the green room, he saw Liz standing there. 

“What’s going on, Bri?” 

“Nothing! I’ve got a bit of a stomach bug but really-” he stopped when she held up her hand. 

“That’s not a stomach bug, Brian. I happen to know it’s something else. You’re not feverish at all. Once we get home I’m examining you. Even if I have to handcuff you to force you to submit.” they went out to the limo. 

“Fine fine.” 

“What’s all that?” John shut the door to the limo after they all got in.

“Brian’s sick again. I need to examine him.” 

“My gosh, what is it going to take for you to get well and stay well?” Freddie teased, giving Brian’s hand a pat. 

“That’s what I’d like to go,” Brian admitted, closing his eyes briefly. Roger and the others gave him sympathetic looks as Liz mentally ran through Brian’s health history in her mind. 

At home, Liz examined Brian, noting some guarding and tenderness in his belly. “Did you ever get your appendix out?” she palpated Brian’s abdomen gently to make sure all his organs were in the proper place and the proper size. Freddie hovered nearby, wanting to make sure that his friend was well taken care of. Roger and John had headed straight to bed as it was a late night. 

“No.” 

“The tenderness isn’t in the appendix region so that’s not the issue,” she mumbled. “it’s infraumbilical or around your bellybutton. We should get the doctor to evaluate it. Could be a peptic ulcer or any number of ailments like a hernia.” 

“I will get on the phone with the doctor tomorrow.” Brian volunteered. “Anything to get me well again.” 

“Good boy. Do you need something to help you sleep tonight?” 

“That would be welcome.” he gratefully took the sleep aid Liz gave him and went to sleep. 

**

Three days later Brian came home with a prescription antacid with a tenative diagnosis of stress. He had been working hard on the new album and coupled with the stress of touring life recently the belly pain became too intense. It had been tricky trying to get everyone to believe that it was stress which was making him sick with Liz in particular being a skeptic. 

One day they had all been in the studio with Liz, making up a new album when Brian felt like he was about ready to die. His depression had been feeding him black thoughts and he was fed up with it and his pain in general. 

“What have you got there?” Roger snatched a piece of paper from Liz. “Mix one egg with lemon juice-is this some sort of recipe?” 

“Roger! It’s for my hair!” she giggled. “It’ll make my hair shiny and soft. I intend to use some grape seeds with it and a little argan oil. If it works I’ll use it on you.” 

“How about a wash with beer?” 

“That might help. Since when are you so interested in what I put in my hair and beauty products?” 

“Everyone’s got a feminine side!” Freddie teased. “I hear Queen Elizabeth the first put egg on her face to tighten it up every day and then used elderflower water to take it off!” 

“Did you try it yourself, Freddie?” John piped up, plucking a string on his bass. “Get a little frou frou juice on your face?” 

“That was the day you smelled like a French whore!” Roger laughed, slapping the piano lightly. 

“I’ll thank you not to abuse my darling Steinway!” he sat down and began playing an intro. “Where’s Brian?” 

“Bri!” Liz called into the hallway. The guitarist lurched into the hall, muttered an apology and picked up his guitar. 

They were halfway through the piece with Brian playing like he usually did when his mind went back to his pain. All he had to do was picture mentally a volcano going off, then the next thing he knew he was on the floor. 

“Brian! Guys, cut!” Liz barked into the mike. She grabbed her kit and dashed into the room, falling to her knees beside the lanky figure. John took off his bass, got down beside Brian, undid the guitar strap and removed the Red Special. Roger put the Red Special in its stand, kneeling down beside Brian. Freddie cut the microphones in the studio and got on the phone immediately to call for help. 

“Brian, can you hear me?” the medic shined a penlight into his eyes. “Pupils equal and reactive but he’s almost out. I’ll bet it’s that belly pain again. He’ll be dehydrated so let’s try to start an IV in him.” 

It was difficult this time to get a needle into Brian’s veins. “All that nausea and puking really dehydrated him. You can see his eyes are a little bit sunken which is really bad,” she clicked the needle once to push it into the vein a little more and hit blood. “that’s what you want to see. Roger, have the BP cuff ready. Finally got that sucker!” Liz withdrew the metal needle, leaving in place a flexible plastic needle which was much more comfortable. A dime sized pool of blood formed before Liz took a saline syringe and screwed it into the top of the plastic tubing. 

Roger deftly swabbed the blood off as the medic applied slow constant pressure on the plunger. The little bit of blood in the tube turned pink and then disappeared. Liz took off her gloves, handing them to John to throw away. 

“His blood pressure is up because of the dehydration,” she noted. “is he alert, Roger?” 

“Um no,” Roger glanced over to see Brian’s eyes had closed. He pinched Brian in the arm to check for a reaction but got none. “He’s out cold.” 

“I don’t get it. We heard the doctor tell him it was stress.” Freddie mumbled. “Stress can’t do all of this.” 

Liz deflated the blood pressure cuff with a resounding hiss. “Stress can make an illness worse but it doesn’t cause an illness.” she packed up the cuff and checked Brian’s oxygen saturation rate which was low. 

“He’s going to need supplemental oxygen at the least. I know he’s got an ulcer that the doctor didn’t diagnose. I’m gonna rip him a new one,” Liz muttered as Roger packed up the bag and put it back. “Rog, you make a great assistant.” 

“Thanks.” he looked pleased with himself. “Freddie called for help and they should be here any minute.” 

Sure enough the paramedics arrived about 30 seconds later. Liz read them her findings, they checked him out, agreed with Liz and gave Brian supplemental oxygen through a cannula. The entire band followed the ambulance into the nearest hospital and were given a private waiting room away from the press. 

“Well, Queen, how do we do?” one of the doctors shook hands with all of them, closing the door to the private room with the other hand. “I think our diagnosis agrees with yours, Liz.” 

“Peptic ulcer?” 

“A severe one,” the doctor agreed. “the x ray tells us his intestine has perforated and we need to get him into emergency surgery as soon as possible. The nurses are prepping him now.” 

“Is he awake at all?” John asked, squeezing Liz’s hand. 

“Mr. May is awake and he was able to sign off on his treatment including the surgery,” the doctor answered. “he’s aware of the risks.” 

“What risks?”

“Well Freddie, there’s always a risk when you put someone under that they might not wake up,” Liz told him bluntly. “the chances of this happening is very small.” 

“Ms. Hammond is right. It’s in Mr. May’s best interest we fix him as soon as possible. He could develop complications if we don’t.” 

“Yes then, please work your magic and heal him. Don’t worry about us.” Roger dismissed the doctor then plunked himself down on a chair. “I’ll stay here until he’s done.” 

“It’s going to take awhile and even longer to wake up,” Liz reminded everyone. “they’re starting now at what, ten AM? You want to spend all day in this claustrophobic room?” 

“We can’t do nothing all day. What are you thinking?” Freddie eyed his friend. 

“I’m saying we should do something constructive. We can leave our number with the nurses in charge and go home. If something should happen to Brian we can be here in less than half an hour. I suggest we write some songs.” 

“We can’t stay sedentary all day,” John and Liz stood up. “how about we go do something?” 

“All right!” Freddie clapped his hands together. “Liz can go and get beautiful while we come up with some new concepts. Let me leave the number with the nurse.” 

“I’ll be back in a sec-loo.” Liz left the room. 

Knowing the hospital as well as she did, Liz bypassed the bathroom and went straight into the preoperative area. Fortunately Brian was lying on a gurney right outside the operating room doors. He stirred feebly as she approached him, seeing the shadow fall on the opposite wall. 

“Hey Bri. I just sneaked back here to see you before you’re off. They must have given you the good stuff, right?” she tried to joke. 

Brian was very woozy from the drugs and feeling half asleep but still his eyes teared up a little bit, taking Liz’s hand. “Scared.” he told her. 

“I know, hon, and it’s normal. Be positive now and you will be fine,” she reassured her friend. “you’ll wake up feeling tired and groggy but that’s very normal. I don’t think you’ll want company today so we will come in tomorrow when you’re more alert.” 

Brian frowned and clutched Liz’s hand. “I understand. You want us around even when you’re asleep because we are a comfort to you, is that it?” 

He signified a yes response. Liz lowered her head down and kissed him on the cheek. “Then we will be here as soon as possible, hon. You won’t be alone.” 

“Thanks.” Brian sighed. The medic tenderly wiped a tear from her friend’s eye. In the guitarist’s look Liz could tell he was scared out of his mind and was pleading with his expression for his friends to be there. She wouldn’t let him down; nor would the others. 

“I have to go before they catch me. We love you.” Liz brushed Brian’s hair away from his eyes, kissed him on the cheek and reluctantly left him. Just after she left the anesthesiologist came out from the operating room, asked him a few questions, then brought him into the room. He was maneuvered onto the table, they put electrodes on his chest for heart monitoring, then the doctor gave him the sedative injection. 

Brian’s eyes got very heavy in no time at all and he had no choice but to close them. 

**

Later on that day Liz was experimenting with her hair, having washed out the hair treatment, then she inspected the results. 

“So what do you guys think?” she fluffed out her hair. “Is it more shiny and silky smooth?” 

“Let me see,” Freddie ran his fingers through Liz’s hair. “it does feel softer than usual. Did you dye it too?” 

“Yes I did.” John turned to her from the piano, noticing that Liz had a reddish glow to her hair now. “I went for a coppery red to try to lighten my hair up some but that didn’t quite work for me.” 

“I like it. I see some blonde highlights now,” the bassist stood up and tilted Liz’s head so he could see more clearly what she did. “your hair isn’t any one color now; it’s all three.” 

“I like it that way; keep you guessing.” she teased, shaking out her hair again and John caught a whiff of honey. “There’s a new toffee scented soap and shampoo that I love.” 

“I’m glad you found something that you love, love,” John walked with her into the kitchen where she began to search through the cupboards. “what are you looking for?” 

“Lunch primarily.” 

“How about we go to lunch and stop in at the hospital to look in on Brian?” 

“I didn’t hear the phone ring..” it had only been three hours since they left. 

“That’s enough time, don’t you think? Anyway after lunch it will be probably another two hours and about time to look in on him.” 

“Great idea!” Freddie chimed in. “Is this an intimate lunch between the two of you? I don’t want to intrude on your alone time.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” Roger sat on the kitchen counter to annoy Liz. She swatted him off while exchanging a look with John. 

“I’m good either way,” the bassist shrugged. “you?”

“Let’s all go out to lunch! Roger get your ass off that counter!” 

Four hours after going into the operating room Brian was taken into the recovery area in good condition. The nurses extubated him and put him on an oxygen mask to get rid of the remaining anesthetic still circulating in his bloodstream. 

“Vital signs look very good,” the nurse noted them on the clipboard. “his saturation rate is much better and we have him as stable as possible. He should start waking up in about half an hour or so.” 

True to her word Brian did start to rouse within the predicted time frame. He felt extraordinarily weak and the first thing that registered was the incessant beeping of the heart monitor. The only thing he could move was his eyes; all his limbs felt like they were weighted down. It hurt to blink one of his eyes and his throat was very sore. 

“Hi, Brian,” the nurse popped up. “your throat must be killing you right now. I can give you some water if you like, to help ease up on that soreness. Would you like some?” 

Brian couldn’t really talk but he made an agreeable noise. The water was refreshing and soothed his raw throat so he gave a little sigh of relief and closed his eyes again. He wanted to ask to have the monitor silenced but did not have the strength. 

“This must be annoying,” the nurse put the monitor on mute. “you’re doing absolutely fine, the surgeon fixed up your problem area with no complications. We will be taking you upstairs in about half an hour and we’ll notify your friends.” 

“Kay,” Brian muttered. “friends..” 

“They’ve been worried about you so we will give them the news that you’re awake or on your way to being alert. You’re going to feel foggy for awhile so give it time.” 

Brian sank back into his drugged up state for an hour longer, not aware of when he was freed from the monitors and taken upstairs to a private room. 

Lunch had been an entertaining affair with all three of the band and Liz to boot. All of them were feeling a bit rowdy and worked off of everyone’s energy until they were all laughing. They walked into the hospital’s main entrance and asked after Brian. 

“He’s on the third floor.” they took the elevators and Freddie being Freddie, began to jump and down with a silly grin on his face. Roger joined him for a brief moment until the doors opened up.

“You two grow up!” John nudged them with his elbow, took Liz’s hand and went to the nurses’ station. Once they found Brian’s room all four of them stopped quietly out of respect for their friend. He was lying quietly, mask gone, the leads from the EKG were gone, and his eyes were closed. 

“Brian?” Freddie approached the bed quietly. “It’s us.” 

The others filed in and sat down in the two recliners; Liz sitting in John’s lap. Brian stirred a little bit then opened up his eyes. Freddie picked up Brian’s limp hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

“Hey, Bri,” the singer took care to keep his voice low. “we’re all here for you. Everything went well and we will be in tomorrow to look after you, all right? From what the doctor said you’re going to be very sleepy and you may not remember us here. We will be back tomorrow with some gifts and until then we will be thinking of you constantly.” 

“Do you want us here tonight, Bri?” Roger asked hesitantly. Brian indicated no. 

“It’s OK,” Liz hopped up and looked down kindly at Brian. “he needs time to get his bearings so we will see him tomorrow. You might have some emotional highs and lows when coming down off the medicine, Bri, so just try to roll with it and don’t think about it too much.” 

“Love you, mate.” Roger muttered as they went out. 

“We will be thinking of you nonstop.” John clasped Brian’s hand as they all left. 

Once they were gone, Brian felt alone and afraid, knowing that he would have to face it alone and deal with those drugs wearing off as Liz had warned him. The guitarist knew he was in for a long night. 

**

During the night both Roger and Freddie woke up at different times and could not get back to sleep no matter what they did. The drummer opened up the bedroom door, headed out to the kitchen to get some chamomile tea to calm him down. He was definitely worried about Brian; in the back of his mind was the nagging worry that his friend wouldn’t get better. Brian had seemed better after recovering from his hepatitis attack and now he was recovering from major surgery. 

Freddie was already there, pulling the kettle off the stove. He jumped in surprise as Roger joined him but pulled out a second cup, shutting the cupboard door with a rattle. “Couldn’t sleep either, eh? Worried about Bri?” 

“Yeah,” the drummer admitted. “weird Liz and John aren’t up as well.” 

“John’s the soundest sleeper of us all, you didn’t know what?” Freddie handed him the cup with tea already in it. Roger poured himself some of the hot water and let the tea steep a few minutes. 

“He is? Now I think of it I rarely hear him complain of a bad night’s sleep.” they settled in on the couch languidly, both of them looking as relaxed as they could be. Roger bit his lip and looked outside, going over the day’s events in his mind. It was raining softly, pelting down in thick sheets with rivulets running down the windowpanes. Neither one bothered to turn on the light-there was a faint moon shine so they could see enough inside without tripping. 

“Rainy tonight isn’t it?” Freddie remarked, putting his feet up on the ottoman. 

“Yeah. God Freddie, it’s been a rough week or two. Month really.” 

“That it has. Brian’s health has been up and down lately. He collapses and faints while on tour with Mott the Hoople, apparently gets better and now this. You and John are recovering from colds, I sprained my left wrist and had laryngitis, Liz has had a few bad asthma attacks this spring so nobody’s in shipshape.” 

“True. We need to get on top of things as much as possible. I can’t help but worry about Brian.” Roger began to drink his tea, watching his friend and inhaling the rich scent of chamomile. He finally began to unwind a little more, letting the relaxing tea work its magic on his mind. 

“We all are,” Freddie sipped his tea. “remember, Liz is the closest to Brian in terms of what he’s going through. She had surgery and knows how coming down off of those drugs can mess with a person’s mind.” 

“I remember she told us once.” the medic had told her friends how the medication wearing off had messed with her mind, telling her bizarre things and at one point making her question her own sanity. It was going to be rough for Brian who was already clinically depressed in the first place. John could attest to what she had said, having had surgery himself. 

Not much else was spoken; each was lost in their own thoughts as they finished their tea and felt relaxed enough to go back to bed. 

“Thanks for the company, Freddie.” 

“You bet. Have a good rest of the night, Roger.” they shut themselves back in their rooms. 

Brian did not have a good night. He would sleep for a few hours, wake up for an hour or two, then fall asleep again. His sleep schedule was all messed up because of the drugs so he complained to the nurse who gave him a mild sleeping pill that gave him some relief. 

At around 6 AM the day nurse came on shift and quickly became a thorn in Brian’s side. He wanted to lie around and wait for the drugs to stop messing with his head but she nagged him to get up and start walking around some. The guitarist snapped at her, telling her to let him work all the drugs out of his system first then he would concentrate on mobility. He felt tired and grungy, still a bit groggy and not in his right mind. 

Fortunately for him Liz arrived at 9 AM sharp all prepared for his moods and his loss of mobility. She took one look at him and set down a shopping bag filled with goodies for the sick man. Brian looked at her with a lot of crankiness in his gaze which she recognized well. Liz eyeballed his IV, checked his morphine drip which he wasn’t really using. The drip was connected through his IV line and had a button he could push for some pain relief. 

“Your throat’s going to hurt like mad so try this,” the medic gave him a box of throat soothing lozenges which he took gladly. “you look like hell.” 

“Thanks,” he grunted grouchily. “love that.” 

“We need to get you presentable so I want you to sit up and loosen up your gown, exposing your back.” 

Taken by surprise at her demand, Brian did as she instructed, wincing at some abdominal discomfort. Liz reemerged from the bathroom with a plastic basin full of hot water and a small soap disc she’d found. Putting the basin on the bedside desk, she produced a facecloth with hand towel. Liz plunged the cloth into the basin, wrung it out, then rubbed down Brian’s back liberally. She worked up a lather with the soap, rubbed it all over his back, much to his surprise. The medic washed it off, dried his back, then told him to lie back, doing the same to his front.

“Good service from someone who doesn’t even work here,” he ruefully told her. “how much do I tip you?”

“No, Brian. I still technically work for you.” she wrung out the cloth thoroughly, applying it to his arms then washed his face like a mother would to a child. Brian sighed in contentment, feeling refreshed and more at ease than he had been. Even the pain didn’t bother him that much. 

“Good answer.” he giggled. 

“That’s the Brian I know,” she smiled. “All done. So, how about we get you ambulatory?” 

“Oh boy,” he exhaled. “this is going to hurt.” 

“Lessens your chances of a blood clot after surgery. Plus I don’t think you want to stay locked up in bed all day.” the guitarist managed to stand up but he hunched down naturally to lessen the stress on his surgery site. 

“Come on, Bri that’s not good for your posture. This might help.” Liz handed him an ice pack to hold over his incision. He found it very helpful, sliding into his clogs that she had brought him he began to walk. The medic procured a robe to for him to put on to protect his modesty, unplugged his IV pole, wound the plug around the top of the pole to keep it from trailing behind, and offered Brian her arm. 

Smiling Brian accepted it and they began a slow lap around the wing. Brian felt more happy now that Liz was there and orchestrating his recovery with a firm hand. He felt safer with someone he trusted than any nurse that worked for the hospital. They wound their way around the wing slowly but surely, Liz adjusting her brisk pace to fit Brian’s gait. 

“So glad you’re here, Liz.” he told her when they entered his room. She sat on the bed as Brian lay down. Finding comfort in his friend’s presence, the guitarist leaned right into her with his head right over her heart. 

“Aw, poor baby,” she put her arm around him. “it’s been a rough month for you.”

“Yes but you and the others have been there to help me,” he muttered, kissing her cheek. “I don’t know where I would have been if it wasn’t for all of you.” 

“The others will be here pretty quick. I just wanted to make you more comfortable and presentable.” Liz returned the affectionate kiss. 

“Sounds good.” Brian’s voice became weaker as Liz put the ice pack on his wound. 

“Getting sleepy are you? It’s going to be that way for today. The nurse will probably take your catheter out too.” 

“Good.” was all Brian said as his eyes closed. 

**

About half an hour later Liz was dozing off as Brian slept against her when the others turned up. John grinned when he saw his girlfriend, leaning over to her and touching her hand. The medic opened up her eyes and smiled when she saw the rest of her friends around her. Brian was still sleeping so they spoke in softer voices. 

“How’s it going?” 

“It’s going good, Freddie. He had a rough night from what they tell me. He was pretty restless for awhile until they gave him a little something to help him sleep a little more.” 

“We brought him some goodies to help speed up his recovery,” Roger indicated the small shopping bag next to Liz’s. “how long are they going to keep him here?”

“I pulled some strings with the doctor; since it’s major surgery he had we can’t take him home for a few days. He seems to be doing well so far though I want to take a look at his wound.” 

“You can do that later when he’s awake, can’t you?” John and the others did not like the idea of waking Brian up. 

“I’ll wait, yes. You guys can turn on the TV right there and as long as the volume’s low you can keep it on.” 

“All right.” 

**

The next two days of Brian’s life was hospital based. He was monitored throughout his time there, had his urinary catheter removed, and managed to work all of the drugs through his system. By the second day he was walking around without a problem so they discontinued the blood thinner shots. The band was there every day, occupying Brian in his waking moments, playing card games and Scrabble. 

When Brian came home the band made him feel the happiest he’d been in awhile, taking to his own bed with enthusiastic vigor. He joined his friends at the supper table where Liz had made them all vegetarian lasagna, intended to put a little color on Brian’s face. The guitarist still didn’t have much of an appetite so he was happy with a small portion. 

Four days after he was home Brian felt a little warmth in his cheeks which built up as the day went on. Liz pounced on him as he was on the couch that afternoon, peeling back his bandage to inspect it. 

“Sorry I forgot to check it yesterday,” she apologized, her medical kit at the ready with Roger, the willing assistant ready and waiting to help. “feeling all right, Brian?”

“I’m a little warm feeling now that you mention it.” he admitted. Roger took his temperature while Liz began to peel back the dressing. 

“It’s a low grade fever, about 99.8.” 

“Oh,” Liz pulled on rubber gloves as she gently pulled the square off of the guitarist’s skin. “looks like we have a little drainage here. Your wound is a little infected, Brian. Roger, gauze swabs if you please.” 

“I don’t have to go back to the doctor, do I?” 

“No, Bri,” Roger reassured him, offering him some Tylenol for his pain. “if we can keep it clean and change the dressings daily it won’t get infected again.” 

Brian didn’t look so sure as he watched Liz swab down his wound then start gently manipulating it so all the pus came out. Once she was satisfied it had all been evacuated properly, she and Roger made up a wet-to-dry dressing and taped it on. 

“You’ll start feeling better pretty quickly,” they told Brian, then Roger, knowing Brian’s proclivities, put the Red Special and a notepad near his end of the couch. “I want to see what you come up with.” the drummer challenged. Brian cocked an eyebrow, gave his friend a wry smile, then started thinking along the lines of song lyrics and guitar riffs. 

**  
Six days later Liz peeled back the dressing on Brian’s wound and smiled. “Your surgery scar is granulating properly which is exactly what we need to see, Bri. Now we can upgrade your wound from needing to be covered all the time to part time. If you leave the house or turn in for bed you cover it up. Otherwise you can leave it open-the open air will help it heal faster.” 

“Let me see.” Brian used a mirror to look at his new scar. Instead of redness there were signs of healing up, the red lines turning lighter in color. “What an improvement!” 

“Indeed it is. No heavy lifting, take meds for pain if you need it, but I think you’re pretty much back to your old self. I can’t permit you to soak in a bathtub just yet but that will come.” 

“Killjoy,” Brian joked. “will you guys stop treating me like some glass object that might break at any time?” 

“I think we can do that. There’s some studio time tomorrow and it isn’t the same without you.” 

“I’m there!” Brian sat up, thanking Liz as he and Roger walked out to the kitchen, discussing song ideas. 

The medic smiled as she accepted the mug of coffee from John, leaning on the counter as her boyfriend closed the refrigerator door. “What are you smiling at?” 

“Can’t a girl smile?” she teased, kissing him on the cheek. “Look at those two.” 

“I see,” John looked a little puzzled but Liz leaned into him, remembering just yesterday Brian had fallen asleep against her as they were watching TV. She had tucked his unruly hair out of her face, kissed his cheek and ruminated on how much Brian had meant to her and all of them. “they’re getting animated.” 

“Brian wasn’t this animated a week ago,” she reminded him, taking a sip of her coffee. “I was thinking on how much he’s improved and how glad I am that he’s back.” 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Freddie appeared, wearing his black peacoat with the flowers on it. He kissed Liz on the cheek and gave her a carnation. “something for our resident caregiver.” 

“Aw, thank you. Watch out guys, Brian’s back!” unaware everyone was looking at him, Brian grinned at Roger, proudly displaying some song lyrics he’d written.


	15. 15: Ectopic Pregnancy

Chapter 15: Ectopic Pregnancy

 

A/N This is dedicated to all the parents/would be parents who have lost kids at any age. Much love to you all!

Freddie threw himself on the couch with a sigh and a sniffle. Roger, Brian and John had all been out visiting their families that day, leaving him alone with Liz who wasn’t feeling very well at the moment. The singer plucked a tulip from the bright bouquet of flowers that Liz had just brought home from her dash out to the store and rubbed the stem between his fingers. “Wish I had something to do!” he chirped to himself, wishing that he could needle and hector Brian just to see what kind of reaction he would get from the moody guitarist. 

Brian had been rather quiet lately but Freddie didn’t think that there was any cause for concern there. When Brian had been depressed he would just sit in front of the window and brood for hours, letting the thoughts in his mind wreak havoc with his emotions. Lately Brian had been demonstrating that he had been more at ease with himself; often picking up his guitar and humming, plucking random chords and notes. 

At the same time in her room, Liz adjusted a heating pack over her pelvis to ease the cramps, casting her mind back to Brian’s blackest moment. 

It had been in Munich one night when the rest had gone to the Sugar Shack for inspiration and knocking back a few steins of beer, Liz had noticed that Brian had gone to bed early. Usually he would be up until the small hours of the morning talking to the other bandmembers so the medic knew that he was acting out of character. She fobbed off the others with promises to see them in the morning and rushed up to see Brian in his room. 

Liz had been wearing a very long white floral patterned skirt and a green peasant blouse. She opened up Brian’s door, took a step in, then promptly tripped on the long hemline. Swearing, she removed her platform sandals(they didn’t do anything for her anyway), shoved them aside, then barefoot she walked over to Brian. 

He had been sitting on the bed with all the lights off. The medic reached over and turned on the bathroom light through the ajar door so he wasn’t overwhelmed with light. Liz could see him better as she perched on the bed next to him, sitting up on her knees and putting her hands on his shoulders. She gave him a light backrub, trying to ease his tension. 

“Don’t,” Brian jerked away from her. “just don’t touch me.” 

“Brian, come on. You’re tense.” 

“No way. I can’t-it isn’t you.” 

“Enough of this,” Liz knew getting mad would not help her friend but she seized Brian by the shoulders and very forcefully made him turn around to face her. “you’re not acting like yourself. The guys noticed it and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” 

Brian’s tear stained face looked up at hers. “Tell me, Brian.” she wasn’t moved. Inwardly she was flinching as Brian looked like a shadow of himself. All the light was gone from his eyes; he suddenly looked older than his years and very tired. While Liz wanted to corral him into her arms and let him cry, she was going to get him to talk first. 

“I can’t. You wouldn’t understand.” he blinked, holding a tissue up to his face. 

“No? I’ve been a medic for ten years and have talked many suicidal people down from the literal edge, Brian. You would not be any different.” 

“Yeah?” his indifference was going to set her off. Liz stood up and folded her arms across her chest. How was it that he knew to push her buttons? Some men! 

Tough love was necessary in Brian’s case. He needed a hard dose of reality and she had assumed the role. “I know that you feel like your life isn’t worth it right now, Bri. You’re spinning your wheels, all stuck in your head and everything.” she tried empathy first. 

“Oh what do you know about how I feel?!” he lashed out. “You’re not me!” 

He played right into her hands. “Fine then! Go ahead and die, Brian!” she tossed her hands up into the air. “But while your problems are over ours would be just beginning!” pulling out the what-about-us card never failed her. Suicide was selfish as the person was only thinking about themselves and not the people around them. 

“What?”

“Think, Brian! Use that noggin! While you’re dead and gone(which is permanent, irreversible), our problems would just begin! Do you know if Freddie or the others would choose to keep on going with Queen? You’re irreplaceable as it is and we’d never find another guitar player who has your skill! Not to mention they would be too heartbroken to carry on!” 

Brian wanted to say something but he stopped; seeing the look on Liz’s face that clearly told him to keep silent. 

“There’s something called survivor’s guilt, Bri. We would all be grieving, wondering how we could have helped you so that you didn’t die,” time for Liz’s ultimate question. She knelt in front of Brian, her hands on his lap, forcing him to look at her square in her eyes. “why must you feel so compelled to take the easy way out?” 

Her words brought a fresh flood to his eyes. To his surprise, once Brian blinked and could see clearly, Liz’s eyes were suspiciously bright themselves. “Why, Bri? It’s not like you to roll over like this.” 

“I don’t know! I just w-want the sad feelings to go away!” to Liz’s surprise he lurched forward into her arms, nearly knocking her off balance. Since there was no other bed in the room, the medic slid to the floor rather ungracefully with Brian in her arms. The tall guitarist looked rather silly, his legs splayed out but Liz made no effort to amend their positions. 

Clearly this was a chance to let Brian air out his feelings. The medic thought it would be more of a struggle but she was happy he had given in rather easily. What he really needed was his mother’s shoulder to cry on, but Liz was the best he could do. Liz closed her eyes, feeling her friend’s pain, wishing she could do more for him. Her hands went up to Brian’s head, soothing him as he continued to sob. With one hand at the back of his neck and the other rubbing his back comfortingly she was content to sit there with him as long as it took. 

When Brian had cried himself out, Liz could tell that he was exhausted and his breathing pattern was starting to change. “Up, Brian,” she said, straightening out her legs and standing up. “Get changed for bed and lie down.” Liz went into the bathroom, got a damp washcloth from the rack, then came back out in time to see Brian lying on the bed, looking at her expectantly. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed the medic wiped down Brian’s face thoroughly. “When we get back to London I will be taking you to an experienced therapist who will help you work out your issues.” 

“OK.” 

“Can I trust you here by yourself tonight? Or do you want me to stay here with you anyway?”

“Please stay with me,” Brian pleaded. “just for tonight.” 

“OK-I need to grab my pajamas but I’ll be right back.” she promised, picking up her shoes and going next door. 

Freddie and Roger ambushed her, both a little flushed from the liquor they had been drinking. “What’s going on here? Where’s Bri? Deacy is dancing downstairs in the club and we can’t go without the tall one!” 

“I think Brian needs an early night, guys. He’s having nervous trouble.” the two inebriated musicians could clearly see a corner of Liz’s shirt was damp. Freddie’s flesh seemed to lose some of its color as he nodded to his friend. Brian was prone to nervous trouble, or depression and suffered bouts of it as long as they had known him. He must be having a really bad time of it or Liz would not be so worried, Freddie reasoned. 

Roger had a similar reaction, losing a bit of his jocularity as he realized Brian’s problem was serious. The drummer gave Liz a hug in comfort, telling her to look after their pal and emphasizing the point that they couldn’t lose him. 

“Telling me. I had to do some tough love but I think it’ll all work out.” she changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, then went into Brian’s room. He hadn’t moved an inch since she left so she climbed into bed with him, kissing him on the cheek. 

“The boys send their love. They want you well, sweetie.” she told him gently. 

“When are we heading home?” 

“Whenever you like.” 

“Tomorrow. I want to get well.” what shocked Brian was the simple fact that Liz had tears in her eyes for him. He didn’t think that he’d even seen her cry before so tonight for him was a first. The guitarist knew her strategy-slap him verbally with the cold hard truth and ask a disarming question or two. 

The little intervention that Liz had done with Brian worked wonders. Over the next several months as he entered therapy and began to get better, Freddie and the others talked and were a little more complimentary of Brian’s guitar work as the days went on. When the first month of weekly sessions were over Brian had already begun to look a little happier than he had been. 

From then on all the rest was history. Liz shifted the pack on her pelvis then felt something like a pulling which startled her. The medic grabbed for the phone on the nearby table, picked up the receiver and dialed her gynecologist’s office. 

“Yeah, hi. Liz Hammond. Listen, I’m having some abnormal pelvic pain. I hope that this isn’t anything serious but I’m concerned.” Liz pulled up her shirt and noticed that her stomach was a little distended. “I’ve got some distension I think too. No, I’m not pregnant.” 

**

“Freddie?” he looked up, still twiddling the stem between his long fingers at the medic. The singer got up and went over to Liz who was looking increasingly fragile and almost gray in the face. “I need to get to the emergency department about this very painful experience my body is undergoing.” 

“I’ll call the driver right away!” 

Within minutes they were in the emergency department, Liz having been admitted immediately upon arrival. Freddie stayed with her as much as he could except for when she was taken for x-rays. 

“Hang on, you’ve got a bit of a belly on you,” the tech told her. “sure you’re not pregnant?”

“I’m sure! No symptoms.” 

“I want to do an ultrasound so I don’t expose a potential fetus to radiation.” Liz was taken into a dark room, had to submit to a transvaginal ultrasound which she hated. “Well, it looks like you are pregnant!” 

“Me?!” shocked she looked at the monitor and saw a grainy image. “There’s been no symptoms at all!” 

“Some women don’t have any symptoms in that case I envy you!” the tech finished the ultrasound in record time. When Liz was brought back to the room she gazed over at Freddie who asked her what she had learned. 

“That I’m pregnant, Freddie!” 

“My god, really?!” he beamed. “But what’s wrong with you, can you guess?”

“I can guess it has something to do with the baby.” the singer sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug. 

“It does seem to pose that question, doesn’t it?” he soothed. “just wait a little longer.” Liz slid a hand down to her little belly, wanting to protect her unborn child. Freddie’s hand joined hers as he pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“I didn’t even know and now I just want it to be OK.” she bit her lip. 

“Me too, darling. Stay positive, all right?” Freddie murmured. 

“Knock knock,” a doctor called and opened up the door. “The radiologist’s report is back and you’ve been diagnosed with ectopic pregnancy.” 

Liz’s face fell as Freddie looked a bit confused. “It means the embryo implanted itself in the wrong area.” 

“Correct,” the doctor verified. “the little one somehow broke out of your tubes and set up shop in your lower abdominal area. It’s feeding off your blood vessels and causing you pain as it develops. Because there’s no placenta there’s no hCG so your body can’t support it. It’s only growing a little bit as it feeds off your blood but before long the pain is going to get worse and it will rupture.” 

“Is there any way it can be moved?” Freddie clasped Liz’s hand as a nurse put an IV in. 

“Sorry, Mr. Mercury. Because there’s no placenta there’s no support. It’s not a question of relocating it somewhere else. It’s a matter of it’s getting a little bigger, Liz here is in pain but before long she will be in immense pain because there’s not a lot of growth space,” the doctor defended his diagnosis. “I think that you need immediate surgery as your condition is going downhill fast. You’re about two minutes away from hypovolemic shock.” 

“Oh shit! Where is the embryo anyway?” her hand did not leave her little belly bulge. She wished she was having a bad dream and wanted to wake up! Freddie looked like he felt the same thing. 

“It’s in your abdominal wall which is causing you all that pain. We need to rush you in now!” 

“OK.” Liz signed off on consent, giving Freddie a kiss goodbye. “we will meet again.” 

“Make sure of it.” he made her promise. “I better call the guys.” 

Liz was taken into the operating room, moved onto the operating table, and was promptly blinded by the lights. The nurse pulled her hair back and put it into a shower cap, then the anesthesiologist placed the cardiac electrodes on Liz’s chest. She was given an IV line while the anesthesiologist interrogated her about her weight and asked if there were any adverse reactions to the drugs before. 

“Not that I know of.” a wave of pain hit her hard making her nearly convulse. The surgeon yanked on their gloves, demanded that the anesthesiologist administer the drugs to put her out, then drew up the tray of instruments. 

Liz was soon out like a light, intubated and oblivious. Her last coherent thought was of John and the child. 

**

Several hours later Brian, Roger and John had joined Freddie on his vigil for their friend. Roger and John had been out visiting some old pals, camping out on the hills of Dartmoor, getting liquored up, exchanging bawdy off color jokes, etc. Brian had been with his own parents, keeping them informed on the daily goings on of the band and whatever they had been working on. One thing he didn’t dare elaborate on was his mental health. It was a fairly new concept and his father didn’t believe in such a thing anyway. He was the classic stiff upper lip British gentleman and had trouble grasping new concepts at times. 

“What happened to her, Freddie?” John sat down beside his friend. 

“John…” Freddie took John aside out in the deserted hallway. “I figure it’s best for you to know this first since it’s yours and such.” 

“You’re not making any sense.” the bassist looked confused by Freddie’s demeanor. “What is it?” 

“John, do you know what an ectopic pregnancy is?” 

“Not really, no.” 

“It’s a pregnancy that has no chance of surviving. Look, you and Liz had sex and she conceived. The embryo implanted not where it’s supposed to but in her belly. According to the doctor it’s disrupted Liz’s blood flow and gotten so big she’s in danger of a bowel twist or complete rupture which can be fatal.” 

The blood drained from John’s face. “She hasn’t been experiencing any pregnancy symptoms at all, Fred! How on earth can this happen? We are careful people.” 

“It’s life, John. Nobody knows all there is to know about life. These things happen, all right? Nobody can explain it. We need to hope for the best. We don’t know how or why the embryo got out of her lady parts and into her stomach but that’s irrelevant, John.” 

“Freddie…,” John bit his lip and glanced at his friend. “is there any chance of saving it?” 

The singer remembered what the surgeon’s words were and shook his head no. “It’s too early, John. It can’t survive on its own nor be transferred to where it needs to be. The other membrane or organ thingy needs to be there and it isn’t. She’s not producing the right hormones.” 

“Oh god,” John’s knees buckled but he was able to stay upright. “it’s bad enough I have to lose one but I don’t want to lose them both.” 

“I know, old friend,” Freddie soothed him. “you should be the first to know. Do I tell the others or embellish it a bit?” 

“Tell them all of it.” John didn’t care as he sat down on the couch.

“Tell us what?” Roger asked. Brian was all ears. 

“Very well,” Freddie exhaled. “Liz has been rushed into surgery for an ectopic pregnancy.” Roger knew what it was and his exclamation could be heard out into the hallway. He explained to Brian what it meant and then added the note that he thought Liz’s figure had changed shape a little bit. 

“Well didn’t you, John?” Roger asked innocently as the bassist shot him a dark look. 

“I did notice she gained a little weight lately but I never thought it was because I knocked her up!” 

“It’s OK,” Brian soothed. “none of us knew.” he sat down, praying inwardly that despite the grim expectation that the baby would die that it would somehow live. Freddie sat next to him, resting his chin on his hands, deep in thought. 

“So I guess all we can do is wait.” Roger sat down beside John, offering him a hug. 

**

“How’s she doing?” the surgeon asked as he incised through the muscle layer, making as small a cut as possible. “She’s got great muscle tone.” 

“Her vitals are steady. The records on her say that she’s served as an EMT for several years so kudos for her, letting her doctor know something was wrong before it turned into a big emergency.” the scrub nurse replied. 

“I remember her. She was one of the brightest ones we had in the program. Ah, here we go!” the surgeon had found the problem area. “This one’s big-I would say a 13 week old at the least.” Liz’s fetus had human features all right but they were unable to ascertain what the gender of it was. It was mottled red, pink and purple and was a very delicate job untangling the blood vessels and cauterizing them one by one as not to create a bleeding problem. 

“Oh gosh! Let’s ligate it and separate.” 

The band was drowsing in the waiting room, the surgery having gone on for at least six hours before the surgeon came back in to see how they were holding up. 

“Anyone awake in here?” he asked playfully, touching John’s shoulder. “You’re her medical proxy, yes?”

“I am.” 

“Shall we go somewhere private?”

“Sure.” they went into an empty consult room. The surgeon shut the door, gesturing for John to take a seat. The bassist folded his hands in his lap, nervous to find out what had happened. 

“So, Ms. Hammond’s surgery was uneventful which is what we want,” he began. “I’m in particular impressed by the fact she was able to carry a 13 week old in her literal belly for that long without having symptoms prior to this. Most women don’t go beyond 8 weeks.” 

“Is it a record?” 

“I wish! No, it’s not a record but for what it is, it’s impressive.” the surgeon reassured him. “The problem began after we extracted the fetus and began to cauterize the area.” 

John seemed to feel his heart stop with that pronouncement. “What kind of problem?” 

“She started to hemorrhage some and lost a fair amount of blood. The fetus was anchored to her mesenteric blood vessels. The mesentery is what keeps organs in place,” he explained quickly seeing John’s confused face. “we stopped that quickly and right now I have her in the intensive care unit receiving a blood transfusion. She should be conscious tomorrow morning but she’ll be extremely weak.” 

“Oh. There was no chance of saving the-” 

“No, I’m sorry. The fact of the matter is we can’t save something that young. It was underdeveloped, no genital differentiation, etc. If you two were trying, after a few months you can try again.” 

“We weren’t trying,” John muttered. “what’s the likelihood of this happening again?”

“Less than five percent chance.” the doctor encouraged him. “This is rare but not unheard of.” 

“Good, I guess. When will she be awake?”

“Not until tomorrow. Liz is perfectly healthy and sound in every other respect. Go home and tomorrow you can be with her when she’s alert enough.” 

“All right. I’ll corral my friends and bring them home with me.” John thanked the surgeon and stood up, rousting out his friends and insisting Roger give him the key to the van. 

“Look on the bright side, John!” Freddie sang out when they reached home. “She’ll be home in a few days and you can drive her mad again in no time at all!” 

John just grunted, saying goodnight. He tossed and turned that night, his mind plagued with images of the nameless genderless fetus that had been taken from his girlfriend. The bassist felt like he should have known he’d knocked her up but even she didn’t know about it so he was hitting the metaphorical brick wall. The surgeon had asked him if he and Liz wanted the body to bury and he’d immediately said yes to that. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that if they ever lost a child they wanted to bury it together. 

**

Liz groaned and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her throat was sore from the breathing tube so she felt sandpapery dry. The medic submitted to the care of the nurses who told her that John requested the fetus to bury which she agreed on. With her Foley catheter removed and a three inch long slash in her belly, Liz kept her wound covered by an ice pack where the cold numbing power made her more comfortable than the drugs. 

“No narcotics, please. They’re too rough on my stomach.” she declined. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood during the surgery so the doctor’s given you some more, just to make sure that you’ll feel well and can come home quicker.” the nurse indicated the bag of blood Liz was plugged into. 

During the course of the next few days, the band all came in to try to help Liz out. Freddie brought her balloons, Roger a teddy bear, Brian a puzzle book, and John gave Liz a big vase of flowers. 

“John, stay with me, please. I don’t want to be alone.” she requested as the band was leaving one night. 

“We will be back to take you home tomorrow.” Roger kissed her on top of the head. 

“Sure hon. See you guys later.” the bassist waved them out. When they were gone John sat on the bed with Liz, taking her in his arms the best he could. “Liz I still can’t believe that you were pregnant.” 

“I should have known,” she said quietly. “I feel like I let you down.” 

“Hey, no you didn’t!” he protested. “In spite of what happened we didn’t know. You didn’t have any signs.” 

“I know, darling and that’s what tortures me.” 

“Well stop it. We could not have known. Besides we need to discuss funeral plans. I’ve already gotten a small spot at the nearest cemetery. Did we want to bury or cremate it?” 

“No gender?” 

“It was too early, sweetie. It wasn’t visible. It doesn’t matter now anyway.” 

“I think we should cremate it and bury it in the ground in one of those cremation lots.” 

“Good idea. I can’t wait until you’re home tomorrow.” he kissed Liz deeply. 

“Same here.” 

**

Two days after Liz was home John told her that the cremation was complete and pulled the little urn out of his pocket. The urn was in fake rose granite and no bigger than the size of Liz’s fist. She took the little urn in her hand carefully, opening it up and discovering someone had taken the time to put the little baggie of ashes into a hand crocheted little baby’s blanket, tied it with a ribbon, and tucked in a very small stuffed rabbit. 

She left all the items on the coffee table then looked up at John who’s eyes were very bright, opening her arms up to him. Just like she did with Brian she put her hand on John’s neck then rubbed his back as he quietly cried. Liz teared up herself then Freddie came into the room. 

The singer needed no explaining and was followed by Roger. The drummer saw the little urn first and promptly dissolved into tears, picking up the tiny little rabbit toy wordlessly. Freddie wasn’t far behind, touching the blue little blanket and feeling the loss his friends suffered pull at his heart. Brian entered the living room with his guitar and notepad in his hands, then immediately noticed the atmosphere had changed. He saw the bag of remains on the coffee table, glanced at his friends, then sighed a little bit. 

Everyone’s thoughts were unspoken but they all ran along the same line. It should not have happened to Liz and John, it wasn’t right that a life so tiny had died before it had a chance to properly begin. John would have been a great dad, Liz a great mom and yet by fate the chance had been snatched away from them before they even knew it. It wasn’t right and would never be right. What did they ever do to deserve this? 

Roger engulfed the grieving couple in a big bear hug as Freddie and Brian dabbed away a few tears that had been threatening to fall. The urn still had a lot of room in it apart from the little bunny and blanket which got Freddie thinking. 

“When are you going to inter this?” 

“As soon as Liz is well enough.” John put back the contents of the urn. 

“I have an idea!” Freddie didn’t say what but he had taken Brian aside for a moment to explain. 

“That’s brilliant, Freddie! I’ll take some time to help you out.” 

“Damn well better, I need a driver! Roger, can we borrow the van?”

“Sure.” he tossed them the keys, dabbing at his eyes. When the two musicians left Roger sat down John and Liz for a moment. “I’m so sorry for your loss, guys. I don’t know what to do or how to comfort you. That little urn…” 

“It’s OK. I’m just glad you’re all here.” John squeezed his arm in a friendly way as Liz smiled, pressing the ice pack to her wound. 

“Recovering OK?” 

“I’m all right, Rog, thank you.” 

“Question for you, Liz.” 

“Yes, Rog?”

“You said you had pelvic pain; the embryo was lodged in your abdomen. How does that add up to ectopic pregnancy?”

“The pelvic pain was the embryo pushing down on my uterus as the surgeon said he found it low in my belly.” 

“We did notice you had gained a little weight though.” Roger gently teased. John wisely chose to say nothing on that front but he had noticed it. The drummer let it be, asking John if they wanted to jam for a little while. 

“Sure.” 

“Anyone know where Mother Mercury and the space case went?” Liz adjusted herself on the couch. 

“No but they’ll be back.” Roger grinned. 

**

“Sure you’re well enough to do this, Liz?” John zipped up his jeans and tied on his shoes. “We can wait a little while longer until you’re healed more.” 

Liz put on loose black drawstring track pants, her sneakers, and a white hoodie. “I need to say goodbye, finish grieving and move on with my life, John. It’s time to put this in the past. This will be closure.” 

“All right.” the bassist drew on a parka while Liz put on her leather jacket John had given her and they all went out to the van. 

At the cemetery it was easy to pick out which plot John had picked for their unborn child. He carried the white box containing the urn out to the gravesite where a small rectangular vault was waiting for them. A few feet of bright green astroturf lined the three foot hole and a small tombstone was covered up by the groundskeeper to protect it. 

Liz pulled the drape off of the three foot high black granite tombstone. On the surface the date was etched with a simple quote, “Born too soon, died too soon, in our hearts forever. With eternal love from Mom and Dad. LH and JD.” the medic and John hadn’t wanted any typical young death imagery like lambs or broken buds or even butterflies. The two of them had chosen to have dandelions put on instead as they were reminded of their youth every time they saw them. 

“I like it,” Brian approved. “you kept it simple.” 

On top of another tombstone John set down the little box and produced the urn. Roger stepped forward with his hand in his pocket. “Would you mind passing that around, John? Freddie thought it would be best we each contribute something.” 

Liz exchanged a look with John as he removed all the contents. “Of course, Roger. We would be interested to see what you all came up with.” 

“All right.” Roger pulled out a miniature snare drum-pulled off one of their old Christmas ornaments in fact. The ornament had been a tiny drummer boy and had all his limbs missing which was unfortunate. “This guy met with an unfortunate accident!” 

“Yeah, right! Freddie decorated him to look like you and your vanity wouldn’t tolerate it!” Liz giggled.

“Me next.” Brian had a keychain with the northen star on it. “Polaris. Just look up to Polaris when you feel lonely and you will find your way.” 

“Wonderful present from the space case.” John murmured, holding Liz’s hand. 

“My turn!” Freddie took the urn. “I found these at a yard sale and could not resist.” he produced two tiny wooden blocks, one in pink and one in blue. “Since it was too early to find out the sex I got both.” he put it in the urn and handed it back to John. 

“Thanks guys this is really thoughtful of you.” the bassist smiled. He put the little bunny in the urn, Liz put the remains back into it, screwed the top back on and together they put the urn into the little concrete vault. John peeled back the adhesive tape backing and put the lid on tightly so it was sealed. Together they put the vault into the hole, leaving it for the groundskeeper to fill in later on when they left. 

Strangely they didn’t request music or anything though the others would gladly have supplied some. Freddie wondered at this momentarily but sometimes music was too evocative. He chose to drop it from his mind as John held out his hand for Liz which she accepted, and both walked sedately back to the car. 

**

Later on that night John woke up, feeling restless and uneasy. That day they said their final goodbyes and even though they would always be grieving on some level he felt like he could function again which was a relief. He turned on one elbow to gaze down at Liz who was sound asleep. John brushed aside the blankets covering his girlfriend, pulling up her pajama shirt and gazing down at her scar. 

It had faded a little bit from bright red to a dull pink and was still sore a little bit. He could see the areas where the scabs were flaking off and gently removed them. John was well versed in wound care now and he knew Liz’s wound was granulating properly meaning healing. The surgeon hadn’t taken her staples out yet but he would at the next visit. The bassist could hardly imagine that even though it was ectopic, there had been an embryo in there. They never even noticed it until it was too late which sparked regret. There wasn’t anything they could have done if they had discovered it sooner; it would have come to the same conclusion. John wanted to rail against fate, curse their bad luck and hold someone responsible but there wasn’t anyone. 

John lightly touched his girlfriend’s flat belly, imagining that some day Liz would properly carry to term and they would be parents. What he still had was hope that it would turn out all right at the end. They would become parents, of that he was certain. All they had to do now was give it time; time to heal and to start again.


	16. Liz's Cold

16: Liz’s Cold

 

“Liz, you got a letter from Ben! He’s coming to the concert next month so we need to look sharp!” Freddie gave his friend the letter, she turned and plopped down in Brian’s recliner to read it as the others milled around, John retired to their room in order to start paying the bills. 

“Dear Liz I’m happy to hear from you guys. I know you’ve had a rough time as news of your condition was leaked to the press by some unsavory character, doubtlessly paid off,” Ben’s letter began. “if it’s true I’m very sorry to hear about the loss you and John suffered. My now ex wife’s friends had that happen to them and they never completely got into it. I don’t think one can completely get over it you know? I hope you’re both grieving and getting help that you need. 

“It’s really unfair,” he continued. “some people who would be awesome parents can’t be because of their biologies or nature or what have you and some ignorant tits who are strung out on drugs copulate with every living thing that’s capable of being fucked over! I won’t lie; I cried a little bit for both of you because I know it’s hard and I really hope that you have the help that you need. Please don’t forget to tell me how you are from time to time. This is just a quick note, dashed off in the office. Once I saw the tabloid headline that you suffered a loss I couldn’t wait to write to you and try to make sure that you’re all right, mentally and physically. 

“Again, I am so sorry for your loss. I hope that this rumor isn’t true but if it is I am thinking about you. Please call me or write, my dear friend. I will worry about you until I have word. Fondly, Ben.” 

Liz folded the letter back up and put it into her pocket, thinking about drafting a reply when the door opened and Brian came in, his jacket all flecked with new snow and starting to melt. He took his hat off, hung it up, then told Freddie there was a lot of snow covering the driveway and needed to be shoveled. 

“What are you asking me for?” the singer deadpanned. “I think it’s a group effort! Come on, everyone!” 

Everyone donned their cold weather gear except for Liz who was still recovering from her surgery. She tossed her gloves away into the basket without a further thought. “Sorry guys, no heavy lifting for me!” 

“Blast it!” Roger mock growled at her. The medic laughed and flung herself into the couch, flicking on the latest TV movie. 

**

“How is Liz doing lately, John?” Freddie asked, taking a short break from shoveling. The medic had been a little subdued lately but she seemed to be in good spirits. There was more going on in her mind he was sure, yet Freddie did not want to cross a line in asking. Liz had made it pretty clear that the topic was closed. 

John paused as well, putting on his sunglasses as the sun glare was incredible. “She’s not saying too much on it right now, guys. I do know she’s been seeing a grief counselor but that’s about it. I’ve mostly put it behind me but sometimes I get nightmares..” he trailed off, remembering one from just last night. He’d woken up in a cold sweat, convinced that Liz was dead, then had to remind himself that it was just a dream. 

“What about?” Roger had to stop for a moment, breathing hard like he’d just run a 50 yard sprint. 

“I keep getting this recurring dream where Liz has the baby then she dies.” the bassist flinched, leaning on his shovel handle. Freddie reached over and squeezed John’s shoulder to comfort him. The singer paled a little bit as he thought about what his friend had said. He knew that they’d all had more than their fair shares of nightmares lately due to the circumstances. 

“My god, John. It sounds like you’ve got unresolved issues here. I’m no shrink but I think you’re fearing that maybe if a next time happens you’ll lose the one person who matters the most to you,” Freddie reasoned. “I remember that Liz could have died if we hadn’t found out her condition early on. If it had gone on for longer she would have hemorrhaged and bled to-”

“Don’t remind me of that!” John shuddered. “I love her and I couldn’t bear to let her go!” 

“You’ve lost a lot of sleep over this, mate,” Roger observed. “why don’t you go and have a nap or something?” 

“I’ll be fine, guys,” John insisted, hefting another shovelful of light fluffy snow. “this exertion will make me too tired to dream tonight anyway.” 

“You know best,” Freddie warned him. “let’s get this done.” 

“Look at how far Brian’s gone. The animal!” Roger brandished his shovel in front of him, blade parallel to the ground, he began to push the shovel without lifting it, creating a little plow effect. 

“That looks like fun!” Freddie tried it as well. John shook his head then followed his friends. 

At the same time, Liz was lying on the couch, barely awake. She sniffled and felt a cold coming on; her sinuses were starting to get stuffy and she felt faintly warm to her own hand. “Oh great,” she moaned. “a cold’s going to get me; they always prey on the ones who are weakest.” the medic gave up the fight of trying to keep awake to watch the TV movie and submitted to the urge to sleep. 

An hour later the driveway was cleared. Roger brought out the van which the band cleaned off as well and had it ready to go for their trip into town to do some clothes shopping. The drummer was a bit of a clothes horse with Freddie not far behind. The two of them loved to scour the marketplace and see what kind of unique looks they could put together while on a modest budget. On the way they were going to drop off Brian at a Jaguar dealership as he had just bought his first car. 

“Well I think we need some hot cocoa to see us off!” Brian put the kettle on while Freddie dug around in the cabinets until he found the mix. In no time at all the hot water was ready and the hot drink seemed to revive their good spirits. 

“Hey, where did Liz go?” John looked around until he spied the lump on the couch that was his girlfriend. “Watching some TV, Liz?” he didn’t get a reply. 

“Oh sorry Liz, we didn’t see you there or we would have made some cocoa for you.” Roger started towards her. 

“Something’s not right.” John walked over to the medic, sitting down on the couch as the TV blared on in the background. “Liz? Can you hear me?” 

No response. “That’s strange. Her cheeks are all red,” he clasped a hand to her forehead. “she’s burning up!” John picked up the limp figure of his girlfriend and brought her into the bedroom with Freddie opening the door for him. 

“I don’t think she’s been this sick since college,” Roger brought out an arsenal of medications as John laid Liz on the bed, stripped her to her underclothes, then with Brian’s help put her nightdress on her. “let me grab a cold compress.” the drummer grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and put it on Liz’s head. The medic had begun to shiver as she was undressed, now as John put the bedclothes back over her the shivering had eased a little bit. 

“She’s gotten the flu shot, right?” Freddie asked in the background, looking worried about his friend. A memory came up of Liz’s illness in college but he dismissed it. 

“Yes but I’ve heard some people who have been weakened for whatever reason might actually get the flu from the shot.” all the band stood in a line from John at the front to Brian at the back at Liz’s bedside. She moaned a little bit, doubtless in the grip of her feverish dreams as Freddie checked her temperature. 

“It’s about 102.3,” he reported. “we’ve got to go and drop Brian off at the dealership. John, you’ll be OK here with her alone?” Brian sat on the edge of the bed, shooing his friends aside, then readjusted the compress on Liz’s forehead gingerly, not wanting to wake her up. Her forehead felt hot and dry to his touch; never a good sign. The guitarist reluctantly stood up and was ready to go with his friends though a part of him wanted to stay behind and help John nurse Liz. 

“Of course I will be. She’ll be fine.” John told them stoutly. Roger pulled up the blankets a little more, brushing his hand against the side of Liz’s face. She made a noise of discomfort and moved her head away restlessly. The drummer’s heart went out to her, looking so small and sick. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen her this sick since college,” Freddie reached over and touched Liz’s forehead, a sweet look of concern and tenderness on his face. “poor thing.” she made another noise of discomfort and moved away from the others, hiding her face to prevent being touched. 

“Same here,” Roger agreed. “I hope it isn’t serious.” 

“I won’t worry and neither should you,” John encouraged them. “go about your day and when you return I’ll have more news for you. I have a ton of stuff to read anyway; now I have time for it.” 

“Good I guess.” Freddie, Roger and Brian headed out to the van while John sat down in Liz’s lounger, turned on her lamp then began to thumb through some magazines, but then he caught sight of the letter that Ben had sent Liz He was touched as he read through it, knowing that Liz would not care he’d read it, then decided to write a response himself. 

“Dear Ben, it’s John here. What you read in the tabloids is their version of the truth. I write to you now our full truth. 

“Liz had grown a little bit in the abdominal region and she kept having pain down there. She initially thought it was a hernia of some kind but that wasn’t the case at all. One day she had Freddie escort her into emergency to make sure they knew what they were dealing with. An x-ray revealed an ectopic pregnancy and further ultrasounds discovered that the embryo had actually gone outside of her tubes and lodged itself into her abdomen, latching onto her blood vessels there. 

“That was why she was in a lot of pain when Freddie brought her in. It was extremely fortunate that she was in and they discovered her problem before her life was threatened by it. According to the doctor the fetus was actually older than they thought and Liz had been having pain because it was growing but slightly. Eventually it was going to rupture and she’d have been rushed into the hospital because of bleeding but I’m still thanking our lucky stars that didn’t happen. She chose to have surgery and it was removed without any problem.

“The psychological ramifications were what you would expect. Liz is having grief counseling and I’m dealing with my own grief. We held a little funeral for the fetus which might sound odd but we did it anyway. 

“Liz right now is quite ill-she’s caught a flu bug or some other nameless illness. As I write she’s lying in bed sick with a fever and a little bit delirious. She’s going to be fine I’m sure, you just have to wait these things out. Either me or Liz will write you when she’s well again. You’re more than welcome to stop by any time if you’re in London. 

“Much love from the Queenies and Liz! John.” 

John sealed the letter and put it in the mailbox right away. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at Liz, grabbing her hand and holding it for several long minutes. 

“Come on, sweetie,” John coaxed his love. “you will beat this.” 

**

Freddie and Roger arrived back home with a few shopping bags full of thrift store gear and minds full of ideas. When they stopped in to check on Liz and make sure John had supper, they saw the bassist sleeping on the lounger while more snow flurries danced against the bay window. 

“Hey, John,” Freddie put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, waking him up. “did you have supper yet?” 

“No,” the bassist groggily told them. “I should.” 

“Come on then darling, we’ll feed you. Roger, stay with Liz?” 

“Sure.” he pulled up a chair, leaning forward to check Liz’s temperature. “It must be time to give her some medicine now.” getting the all clear from John, Roger measured out a dose of some medicine and managed to give it to their sick friend. 

John moped at the table while Freddie fed him some leftovers from the night before. “Know what I was thinking?” the singer sat down opposite of him. “Of how this whole house changes when someone is ill. We get much quieter and more subdued in everything. Someone’s illness really does affect all of us whether we know it or not.” 

The bassist cleaned his plate with no interest, then rubbed his eyes, dropped his shoulders looking almost forlorn. Freddie tried to cheer him up, giving him a loose shoulder rub. “What we need here is a trained legit masseuse!” 

Liz was the one who often gave Roger massages when he was tensed up from playing the drums and would freely do them to anyone. John winced a little bit as he remembered but Liz wasn’t dying she was just sick. He was dramatizing to himself again. 

“Come on, talk to me,” Freddie coaxed. “what are friends for anyway?” 

“Maybe later, Freddie. What time is it?”

“It’s almost 11, John. Roger and I came in kind of late. Brian is off visiting his parents and showing off his new car so he’ll be back sometime soon.” 

“Ugh.” 

“John, why don’t you use the spare room to go to sleep in?” the singer suggested. “It’ll be no distraction for you.” 

“What about Liz?”

“We’ll look after her. Come on then, go to bed. We can’t have you getting sick too.” Freddie ushered his friend into the spare room where his pajamas had already been laid out for him. John was so sleepy he had trouble staying awake to brush his teeth. Finally he stumbled into the bed, lazily dragging the blankets up as his eyes closed, hoping that Liz would show some kind of improvement during the night. 

Roger was a bit of a night owl like Brian was so he had no qualms of falling asleep any time soon. The drummer pawed through John’s magazines, set the letter from Ben into Liz’s sentimental treasures box without looking at it. Leaning closer to Liz he checked her fever with a regular thermometer, looking disappointed when it tested the same. Roger gazed at her for a long moment as she lay sleeping in the bed, her face flushed with fever, then had a memory come to the front of his mind. It had been at least ten years ago since she had been sick with a bug when they were in college yet she looked almost exactly the same. He picked up the ice pack and put it on her forehead, then noticed that the pack had grown tepid. Liz made a noise of discomfort in her sleep so the drummer removed the ice pack, smoothed out her damp hair, then left the room. 

“She’s got to let this run its course,” Roger reminded himself. “poor thing.” he crept out to the kitchen to swap out the ice packs just as Brian came home. 

“Where have you been?” 

“I was showing off my new Jag,” Brian said in a low voice. “how’s Liz doing?” 

“About the same,” Roger sighed. “I think that just letting it run its course is what we have to do but I don’t like it. She was already weak from surgery so it’s no wonder she got sick so fast.” 

“True..” Brian led the way into the sickroom where he didn’t see any change at all but it had only been a few hours since he’d been away. The guitarist smoothed away Liz’s hair from her forehead as Roger applied the new ice pack. She made a faint noise of distress and her eyes opened up a little bit. 

“Hey girl,” Brian knelt down, taking her hand. “welcome back. We’ve been worried about you.” 

“How did I get here?” her voice was raspy and faint. Roger stood aside with his arms crossed, frowning down at Liz. He didn’t like how confused she was or her weak voice; reminding him too much of when she was sick before. 

“John carried you in. We come in from shoveling off the driveway and find you asleep on the couch but you didn’t respond to him so he got worried. He discovered that you were feverish and brought you in here, changed you into your pajamas and put you to bed.” 

“Oh. I had so many dreams..” 

“What kind of dreams did you have, Liz? Any good?” Roger gave her a smile. 

“Hi, Rog.. some of them were OK..” she trailed off. “damn, I’m too tired..” 

“That’s all right. Go to sleep. We’ll be here to take care of you.” Brian soothed her, pulling up the covers so she was fully covered. Liz gave a breathy sigh as she shut her eyes and drifted off again while the other two exchanged looks; both knowing what the other was thinking. When Liz had been sick before she had been in a depressed and troubled mindset, nearly letting the illness kill her. Everyone in the band knew it at the time, doing all they can, even calling the campus doctor to come and examine her. Something had been bugging her emotionally and she’d roused enough from her delirium to tell Roger exactly what it was. After that she finally began to recover and the band had a collective sigh of relief. 

“Last time she almost died so this time I’m a little on edge.” Brian shut the door softly. “As far as I know there’s no major issues troubling her and she certainly hasn’t been acting depressed; I would know.” 

“She’s hell bent on leaving the past in the past, Brian. I agree with you that it does bring back memories of the sickness she suffered in college but times are different now.” 

“I’m sure there’s no reason for us to be too concerned about her.” Brian sounded like he was trying to reassure himself. “Different times.” 

“She’ll be all right. John’s an early riser so he’ll check on her in the morning. We don’t need to do the round the clock nursing like when she was in college.” Roger explained. 

Now it was Brian’s turn to sigh. “She scared us so bad then. I’m glad this is different.” 

“Me too. Let’s head to bed.” 

“Right.” Brian and Roger went to their respective rooms while the others slept on. 

**

In the morning Freddie woke up at his usual time, showered, changed, then came out into the kitchen whistling gaily as the snow continued to fall outside. He leaned out the window, checking the snow gauge that hung there which was indicating there was four feet of snow outside. The singer turned on the radio as he made himself breakfast, chuckling with delight as the DJ announced a list of school and business cancellations. He had no personal experience with snow days having been at a boarding school. 

“These things happen,” with a mug of coffee in his hand Freddie walked into the sickroom, keen on seeing how Liz was doing that morning. “how’s our girl doing?” 

Putting the mug on the bedside table the singer sat on the edge of the bed, peering down closely at Liz. She was still flushed with fever so he took her temperature carefully. While he waited, Freddie observed Liz closely and thought her breathing sounded a bit different. He’d have to pass that on to Roger who would be able to check that out. 

“Your fever is a little lower but not by much.” it was 101.3, not enough of a fever to keep her sleeping all the time but enough to make her feel sick and probably grumpy as well. 

The ice pack Roger had given her last night had turned to slushy water so Freddie threw it back in the freezer, picked out a new one, then put it on Liz’s forehead. The singer picked up her limp hand that was lying across her ribcage and pressed it gently, hoping that would wake her up. 

“It’s me, darling.” gray eyes opened up and focused on Freddie. 

“Hi, love,” she said drowsily. “how are you?” 

“I’m glad that you’re awake. You must be feeling still really hot and ill.” 

Liz chuckled dryly and coughed. “And congested.” 

“Damn. This is one hell of a cold you’re getting walloped by.” the singer remarked. Liz coughed several more times, producing a dry hacking sound that made Freddie wince to hear it. He pulled some pillows out from the other side of the bed and propped up Liz to help her breathe properly. 

“Let me get you some medicine, dearie,” he fussed with the bottles on the bureau, finding the decongestant and giving her a dose. “this might help you out some.” 

Liz took the medicine with no complaint. She coughed a few times as the alcohol in the mixture seemed to burn into her nose then grew quiet. “Where’s John?” 

“He’s in the spare room right now to get a full night’s sleep. He didn’t want to disturb you,” Freddie explained simply. “we will all be checking in on you now that it’s light outside.” 

“Is it still snowing out there?” she could see a faint hint of sunshine and whiteness frosting the windowpanes. A red cardinal flashed his beautiful color outside as he flew by her window. 

“There’s some congestion in your pretty voice, darling,” Freddie opened up the window blinds for her and showed her that the snow was still falling. “the snow gauge measures around four feet. At this rate we’ll be snowed in by the end of the day.” 

“Damn.” Liz watched Freddie as he sat down near her on the edge of the bed again. The singer could see that Liz was ready to drift off again so he stood up, pulled the covers up tight and pressed her hand to her waist. 

“Why don’t you go back to sleep, Liz,” he suggested as she stifled a yawn. “I can tell you really need it.” 

“True that.” she murmured, exhaling with a slight cough. Freddie watched his friend affectionately as she fell asleep, the sedative properties of the drug forcing her to close her pretty gray eyes. He stayed with her for a few more minutes after that, making sure she was deeply asleep, then stood up and left the room. 

Freddie came face-to-face with John who was poised to enter. “Oops, sorry Freddie.” John was freshly washed and ready for the day. “How’s she doing?” 

“Liz was awake for only about five minutes or so. I gave her some decongestant medicine-she’s got a wicked cough right now.” 

“I heard her. She sounded pretty stuffed up.” 

“She is,” Freddie made a face. “she’s sleeping now, John.” 

“Let me look at her.” he opened up the door and went into the room with Freddie leaning in the doorway and watching his friend with a fond smile on his face. John’s devotion to Liz was obvious in his face as he assumed the same position that Freddie did, running his hand down the side of her face. Not wanting to wake her up, John could tell from her breathing that it definitely sounded congested. 

The bassist left the room quietly then he and Freddie resumed their usual chatty banter until Brian followed by Roger ambled out into the kitchen to fix themselves breakfast. 

“Snow morning!” Roger shielded his eyes at the snow brightness. “How’s our patient?” 

“Her fever is down some but she’s developed chest congestion,” John reported, picking up the newspaper. “she’s sleeping comfortably.” 

“Really? Well, colds often start like this.” the drummer sipped his coffee. “Do we have anything to do today?” 

“Not at all. The studio’s snowed in and the whole of London has come to a standstill.” Freddie reported gleefully. 

“Why are you so happy about that?” Brian looked mystified. 

“It isn’t often the whole of London shuts down; let them see what it’s like for us who live in the outer suburbs who sometimes go without power or plowed streets.” his brown eyes danced mischievously as he sat down on the couch with a book of art history in his lap. 

“Freddie’s gotten in touch with his evil side today.” John smirked.

“I’m in touch with my evil side all day every day!” Freddie jumped up from the couch, went to the window and narrowed his eyes against the sun glare. “Nature inspires me to a degree. I think I might want to write lyrics or paint today.” 

Just then the rumbling of a snow plow thundered overhead followed by the sound of rattling chains. “Freddie, tell the people in your sex dungeon to stop making so much noise.” Roger laughed as he plopped himself down on the couch. Brian followed him, picking up yesterday’s newspaper and opening it up while John washed the dishes and put them away. 

“I think we can go out and play around a bit.” 

“Do what you guys want,” Roger got up from the table, feeling a need to check on Liz. “I’ll be checking on the sick one.” 

“All right then. John, want to check out the scene from outside? I see the bird feeder needs topping up.” Freddie threw on his jacket and scarf. John put on his jacket and picked up the jug of bird seed to put into the feeder. Brian picked up a suet coated pine cone that had seed pressed on it and followed his friends outside. Liz had made suet pine cones for feeding the birds several weeks ago, sealing them in Tupperware and stashing them in the lean to just outside the door so they wouldn’t melt in the heat. 

Roger knocked on the door, more out of habit than anything else, then opened it up to see that Liz was lying asleep in the bed but looking a bit restless. The drummer checked her fever which was the same but he didn’t expect anything less. 

“Hey Liz, how are you doing?” he spoke softly, dropping to his knees beside her so they were eye level. 

The medic opened up her eyes and exhaled shakily, taking in Roger’s slightly worried face. “Hey.” 

“Hey yourself. How do you feel?” 

“Lousy. I’m so congested it’s not funny.” 

“You do sound raspy.” 

“Thanks, I love you too.” Liz made a face. “Rog, give me a hand up here. I need a shower; I feel gross.” 

“Gladly.” Liz pushed back the covers and sat up, her head swam for a moment but she allowed Roger to grasp her hands and help her stand. She had to take a minute to clear her head then glanced up to see Roger’s blue eyes locked with hers, slightly dark with worry but there was a hint of amusement in them as well. 

“All right?” 

“I’ll be OK,” she pulled out fresh pajamas from her dresser. “I’m so wobbly on my legs.” 

“Don’t turn up the hot water too much-it could make your fever worse.” 

“OK, Rog.” Liz got into the shower without any major problems. She was short on her shampoo so she stole John’s knowing that he wouldn’t mind. Once she was clean and dressed in new pajamas Liz went into the kitchen and ate a little bit to keep herself sated and to give her body energy to fight the cold. Everyone looked up at her in mild surprise as she sat down next to Freddie on the couch. 

“What do we owe the honor?” he smirked laughingly as Liz put her warm face against his shoulder. 

“Where’s John?” 

“His mom called him-he’s on the phone right now. Nobody’s leaving the house until the main roads get plowed.” Brian answered. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m doin’ OK or as they would say in Yorkshire, I’m middling.” 

“Is that what they say?” Brian turned the page in his astronomy magazine, leaning against his sick friend. “You’re a warm water bottle today.” 

“Oh bull. Freddie, you’re my cushion.” Freddie picked up a book, turning to the flyleaf and not minding the warm weight on his shoulder. 

“If I’m going to be your pillow or cushion then I think I need to be more comfortable,” he adjusted himself so he had his legs up on the couch and Liz was cuddled up against him with his arm across her back, hand on her shoulder. Freddie reached to turn the page but Liz stopped him. 

“Not yet I’m not done.” she objected. 

“You’re the sickie-too bad!” he giggled and turned the page. 

“Oh you’re so mean!” 

**

Two hours later John finally hung up the phone, his mom having been extremely chatty and he ended up spending more than an hour talking to his sister as well. The bassist sighed, raked his hands back through his hair, re-entering the living room. 

“Well I’ll be,” John put his hands on his hips with a grin stretching itself on his face. Roger was nowhere to be seen but Liz was curled up with Freddie on the couch, sound asleep. What added to the charm of the scene was that Freddie himself was asleep, both of his hands were on her shoulder like he was hugging her to him. “isn’t that cute.” 

“Isn’t it?” Brian remarked, turning a page in his magazine. “She’s awfully warm so she’s the perfect hot water bottle today.” 

John was about to reply when the lights and heater flickered then went out. “Well this is just wonderful you know. Where’s Roger?” 

“He’s in his room, probably with his skin bin magazines rubbing one out.” the guitarist rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t need to know.” John pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and spread it over Liz and Freddie. The medic stirred a little bit but stayed asleep. Freddie didn’t move at all; more evidence that he was one of the soundest sleepers in the group. John and Brian were both fairly light sleepers though Freddie and Roger could sleep through storms if they wanted to. Liz was somewhere in the middle as some things would wake her up but not all of them. 

“What should we do with the heat and lights gone out? We have a sick woman to care for.” Brian hissed, standing up from the couch. He went into the kitchen, fishing out candles and a box of matches from the utility drawer in the pantry. John followed him, bringing out a small oil lamp Freddie had bought at an antique sale. John did not light the lamp as there was still plenty of light outside but he dusted off the lamp, rubbing a small layer of grime off of the lamp shade. 

“We’ll have to keep her warm enough,” was all the bassist could say. “our blankets should be enough for her. In the meantime to keep warm for us we should be getting exercise.” 

“Yeah I think so. Did you sleep better last night after all that exertion?” Brian shut the drawer. 

“Yeah mostly. I’m a bit worried about how to care for Liz in this power outage but I think we should be all right. I’ve never had the power go out here I think.” 

“First time for everything. I think we might sleep more than usual if we’re bored.” 

“Don’t want that,” the friends turned to see Roger stumble into the room. “what’s up, Rog?”

“Please tell me that this is a joke,” the drummer pleaded. “no power! Is Freddie still asleep?” 

“Yeah. Why don’t we play the guitars and jam or something?” John pulled out his acoustic 6 string, Brian had the 12 string and Roger had a timpani set up in the spare room. The three musicians started off playing slow then gradually turned up the tempo to see who could keep up. 

**  
At lunchtime Freddie woke up, realizing that Liz was still lying against him. He grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a little kiss. She stirred then woke up gradually, Freddie coming into focus. “Hey you. You slept a long time. It’s lunchtime now.” 

“Is it?” she asked sleepily. 

“Yes. By the sound of things the others are in the spare room making music without me!” he pretended offense. “Are you hungry darling?” 

“No.” 

“You should have something at least.” Freddie gave her a water bottle. “Why is the whole damn house so cold? The heater must be on the fritz.” 

Liz snapped on a light, intrigued when it didn’t work. “I think the power’s out because of the snow, Freddie.” 

“Well damnit to hell then!” he said rather aggressively. “How in the hell are we supposed to take care of you and get you well when there’s no heat? You could get worse!” 

“I know but we can’t control this, Freddie. We need to make do with what we have.” 

“Yes I know. It’s just frustrating. You’re still so fragile from surgery, you get sick, then the power cuts out. It doesn’t seem like it ever ends now. Speaking of your surgery have you changed your bandage lately?” 

“Not today. I’ve been leaving my wound open during the day so it’ll get air and heal.” 

“Let me take a look at it,” Freddie got up, making Liz lie down and expose her stomach for him to examine. She watched his face, brows narrowed in concentration as he delicately inspected her surgery scar, carefully cleaning it off with a damp towel. 

Freddie swabbed it with an antiseptic wipe but a little of it got into an unhealed part, making Liz cry out in pain. “Fuck!” 

“Sorry!” he backpedaled a bit. “I know that stuff stings like mad.” 

“It’s OK, I know you didn’t mean it.” the others came into the room in a little rush after hearing her yelp. 

“Freddie, what are you doing to her?” John demanded, stepping forward. 

“It’s OK, he’s just tending to my scar.” Liz reassured them. 

“All right. I hope you know what you’re doing, Freddie,” Roger came up to his friend and eyeballed his work critically. 

Freddie gently fanned his hand in front of the wound to make the alcohol dry, admiring his handiwork. Liz’s scar was starting to heal more internally now as the scabs flaked off and new skin was peeking up through the staple marks. “You’ll have an unique scar to show off this summer when you flaunt your body in those two pieces I’ve seen you wear!” 

“Thanks, Freddie. I like a new conversation piece.” he pulled down her shirt happily. 

“You’ve definitely got it. So what should we do until the power comes back on?” 

“Do whatever you like. I’ve got to sleep this off. I haven’t felt so tired in a long time..” all four of the band clustered around her as her voice got a little weaker and she shut her eyes. Roger was the first to put a blanket over her, turning to Freddie with a serious look in his eyes. 

“She needs heat to recover.. we can’t stay here with her overnight unless there’s heat.” 

“We can improvise something, Roger. Never fear.” Brian sat down with Liz. “Off with the rest of you-time to get shoveling to keep warm and you’ll sleep better too.” 

“All right.” 

**

Later on that evening Liz woke up to find that John was sitting up with her. A commotion from the music room told her that the others were trying out some new rhythms and Freddie was singing some new lyrics. 

“About time you woke up,” John smiled down at her. “you’ve been asleep most of the afternoon and evening.” 

“Ugh,” she breathed, closing her eyes momentarily. The bassist frowned and put his hand on her forehead. “I can’t shake this congestion.” 

“It’s only been a couple of days. It’ll take more than that to really clear it out. You’ve had this type of cold before. Your fever appears to be down a little more.” 

The medic decided to play up her illness a little more, just for her own amusement. She sat up then began to cough as the congestion got stirred up a little bit, then as if it took all her energy she collapsed back against John. “Goddamn, I can hardly breathe..” Liz produced a few more coughs, closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry, babe,” John’s green eyes looked at her with concern and deep affection. “I wish I could make you better.” 

“Cold.. is the power back on?” 

“Not yet but they’re fixing the line right now as we speak. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up during our rather rowdy game of Scrabble. Roger says you must really be sick!” 

“Uh huh,” the bassist stroked her long curly hair, winding it around his index finger idly. “should we go to bed?” 

“John?” Brian called. “Why aren’t you in bed yet? There’s nothing else to do but sleep.” Brian was silhouetted by the power company’s repair truck which had flashing orange lights on it. “Liz? Are you awake?” 

“Bri?” she asked in a slightly breathy tone. “Hang on I’ll get up.” Liz straightened out her legs, stood up, and promptly nearly fell over. “Damn.” Brian caught her by the arms as John got up, reaching over to help keep her steady. 

“Well, off to bed with you!” the two bandmembers marched Liz to the room. “I’ll be in in a minute; want to talk to Brian.” 

“Right.” Liz went in, got ready for bed and shivering, ducked into the soft fleece covers. 

“How’s she doing? I heard her coughing and that didn’t sound good.” 

“I know. She’s going to be find though. Everyone else in bed?” 

“Yeah. You better go in there and keep her warm. Power should be back in an hour or so-I was just talking to the lineman.” 

“Good. Night, Bri.” 

“Night, John.” the guitarist went to his room to retire. John entered the bedroom, changed into his warmest pajamas, then hopped into bed with Liz. She was shivering so he draped himself over her, burrowing them both in fleece. The medic welcomed John’s touch, raising up his warm hand and kissing it. 

“Do you want to know something?” John whispered into her ear. 

“What?” she asked with her eyes closed. 

“You’re a horrible actress.” Liz started to giggle but coughed instead. 

“Now that was believeable.” 

“That was real.” her throat hurt and she groaned. John kissed her on the cheek. 

“I know.”


	17. Halloween

Chapter 17: Halloween

“So Roger, Bri, what do you think about Halloween this year?” Liz asked them as they got into the rental car. Roger started to drive as Brian buckled himself into the shotgun seat, leaving Liz to get in behind the drummer. The three of them were driving back to Musicland studios in Munich where Freddie and John were waiting for them. Liz yawned tiredly, glad to leave the driving to Roger who was a bit of a daredevil but when there were others in the car he would dial it back. 

“I don’t know about Halloween if you want to go there,” Brian told her as Roger got on the interstate. “seems like a sham to me.” 

“How’s that?” she took her hair down from the ponytail it had been up in, shaking her hair to make the curls flow over her shoulders The medic knew that it drove John nuts when she did it so she had been doing it all she could in his presence. Freddie thought it was very funny to see the look on John’s face. 

“All of this over hype about scary and junk. I think people would better off remember that Halloween originated as a pagan holiday about Samhain.” 

“Brian, can’t you take it for what it is?” Roger interrupted. “The treat is watching the kids in their costumes in parties! Of course if you don’t count women squeezing themselves into barely there outfits..” 

“Roger, remember last year? The slutty nurse from hell?” Roger turned red as Liz and Brian laughed. The drummer had been taken in by a slutty nurse who had very strange friends; they’d talked Roger into doing some things that he’d never told his friends about. The drummer had become paranoid about women for some time after that yet never said why he was that way. Freddie had taken the piss like he usually did, concocting some wild scheme but Roger had told him to drop it. 

“Fuck off!” came Roger’s sharp retort. 

“Roger would you watch the fucking road!” it had rained and frozen to the highway a few hours earlier so the drummer had to exercise special care for black ice. The car skidded a little bit but he kept it on the road. 

“Whoops, sorry everyone.” he corrected the car, signaling for the turnoff as Liz and Brian gossiped some more about the latest album. 

“Just watch the road,” Brian’s tone held a note of warning that Roger did not fail to notice. Night fell and as the miles clocked up they were driving by a church when they all saw a horse and carriage running by the side of the road. The horse turned sharply towards the center of the road, making Roger turn the wheel and swear, Brian yelled and Liz screamed. Safety glass shattered around them, the screech of twisting and crumpled metal filled their ears. Liz clutched onto the backseat until she felt the impact of the crash then everything fell into silence. 

The next thing Roger remembered was waking up with a loud moan. He put his hand to his head, finding himself bleeding from a cut near his left temple. What had happened? He’d been driving along and talking with the others then a horse and carriage had appeared out of nowhere and run out into the middle of the road. Roger had jerked the wheel in alarm, trying to avoid them, then crashed into the side of a stone wall. 

“Where?” he glanced up, seeing an old oak tree near the stone wall. “Brian! Liz!” a quick inspection of his limbs revealed to Roger he hadn’t broken anything and he sure as hell wasn’t impaled by wreckage like poor John had been once. The drummer fussed over Brian, trying to rouse him as he undid his safety belt. 

Brian groaned as Roger kept saying his name incessantly. He blinked, turning his head to see Roger whiter than he’d ever been before, a bloody cut on his forehead, trying to rally him back to his senses. The guitarist hadn’t suffered a lot of damage; the dashboard had been pushed towards him but it just barely missed him by an inch or two. His lower limbs had been protected by the space in the footwell; only his arms had been scratched up by the falling safety glass. 

“How do you feel, Bri?” Roger asked anxiously. “Can you get out of here OK?”

“I don’t think so,” Brian tried to open the door but it had been wedged firmly shut by the stone wall. “I’ll have to crawl out on your side. Help me out here.” 

“Right.” Roger managed to help Brian out of his side of the car, shuffling him along until he reached Roger’s side and was able to stand up and get out of the car. A sharp pain shot through his ankle as he put it on the asphalt and he cried out, knees buckling, alerting Roger to his distress. 

“Where do you hurt, Bri?” the drummer helped him lean against the car. 

Brian clenched his teeth, raising his head up so that the back of it was against the car, involuntary tears of pain forming at the corners of his eyes. “My left ankle.. son of a bitch!”

“It’s OK, just breathe, Bri,” Roger tried to soothe him, bending down to take a look. “I think your ankle’s just swollen from impact. A sprain at best.” 

“Sprain my ass! I know it’s broken!” the guitarist insisted, features drawn and looking pale. Tears sprang up to his eyes but he forced them back, trying to stay in a neutral state of mind. 

Roger sighed. “OK, it’s broken! How the hell can I do anything about it?” 

“I don’t know!” Brian hopped over so he could sit on the rear of the car. Roger remembered his first aid training, stripped two branches off of the old tree, and using his belt, he splinted Brian’s ankle to keep the bones in place and to give his friend some support. “That feels a little better at least.” Brian found a tall branch with a thick bottom he began using as a crutch. “Where are we?”Roger leaned to peer down the stone wall and saw a field with silhouetted shapes against a lone streetlight. Brian looked up to see a tower and belfry. 

“I think it’s a church.” 

“With a churchyard. That explains the horse and carriage, Bri. Farm families live out here,” Roger explained, more to himself than Brian. “I feel like I’m missing something here..” 

A faint moan permeated the air which brought them back to their senses. “Liz!” they turned to look into the car, adjusting themselves so the street light was able to shine down onto her. 

“Oh god she looks bad..” if the two of them weren’t already white faced they would have been. Liz was lying on the backseat, one arm dangling down limply, her head towards them. Roger wrenched the door open as Brian got out of the way. The drummer checked Liz’s head over for any signs of concussion, broken bones and the like. 

“Is she all right? Liz!” the guitarist called anxiously. “I can’t see her!” 

“She looks all right, Brian. Hang on, let me see if I can rouse her.” Roger opened the trunk of the car, pulled out a first aid kit which had a small flashlight, and aimed the light into Liz’s eyes. She didn’t react but he didn’t expect her to. Rifling through the kit he found a bottle of smelling salts so he quickly uncapped it, burst the seal and waved it under his friend’s nose. Liz stirred then coughed, trying to get that smell out of her nose. 

“She having an attack?” Brian adjusted his weight so it was off his bad ankle, thumping his butt against the car fender. 

“No, she’s just coming round now.” the medic put her hand to her face, fingers came away sticky with blood. Her eyelids fluttered then stayed closed for a long minute, causing Roger more anxiety. 

“Come on Liz,” Roger coaxed her. “that’s it. Do you hurt anywhere?”

“My head,” she complained. “what happened?” 

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Roger put his hands on her shoulders. “wiggle your way towards me so we can get you out of here.” 

“All right.” Liz shifted her position, aided by the drummer, who got her out of the car with little effort. 

“How do you feel otherwise?” she sat on the ground shivering as Brian joined her. 

“I’m very cold, tired, and I know I have a concussion. I just want to sleep.” 

“Don’t close your eyes no matter what you do,” Roger urged her. “either one of you! Over there’s a church and I’m going to call for help. I think I have an English-German book in here.” he rifled through his pockets, searched the footwells of the car until Brian gave him the pocket guide he’d stashed in his greatcoat. 

“Smartass! Don’t pass out no matter what you do. I’ll be right back.” the drummer rushed off to the church. 

Roger was no great shakes at breaking in, particularly to a holy spot, but he covered his hand in his coat, punched out a small hole of glass, then reached in and turned the doorknob. Entering the rectory he picked up the first phone he could find, turned on the desk lamp, then began to call for assistance. 

Liz couldn’t shake off the fatigue that was assaulting her senses. She leaned against Brian for a moment who lectured her about staying awake, but it wasn’t sinking in. The medic saw something out of the corner of her eye, something white, then asked Brian if he’d seen anything. 

“No.” something coalesced into the road opposite them. 

“Brian, look,” she clutched at his arm, forcing him to look at what she saw. “do you see it?”

“I see something.” 

“Isn’t it weird?” 

“Very. Sure it isn’t the churchyard across the street over there?” 

“Churchyards don’t cross major highways, Bri.” she countered. “I see something.” 

What they were seeing was the horse and carriage that had spooked them and caused them to run off the road. Liz gasped as she recognized it, Brian clenched her hand tightly, both of them in mutual fear as the horse turned and started walking right towards them. About halfway the sound of a whip cracking was heard, the horse reared up and ran right to them! Liz cringed as Brian took her in his arms, protecting her, knowing they were as good as immobile. 

“Oh god, we’re gonna die, Brian!” Liz whimpered, her voice rough with unshed tears. 

“Damnit!” was all Brian could say as the horse closed the distance. The two of them screamed in fear and horror as the horse seemed to run over them and completely crush them. Both of them felt a very intense coldness rushing right through them then nothing but blackness. 

“What’s going on here?!” Roger shouted, panting as he reached the car. Both Liz and Brian were clinging to each other and yet both were completely unconscious. “The hell happened while I was gone?!” It was very quiet outside, not even the night animals were making any noise at all. Roger heard a slight whinny like it came from a horse. He’d never had any experiences with the big animals; nobody had except for Brian who had taken to riding them off and on. Turning in the direction of the sound he saw a pale majestic looking stallion eyeing him a few feet away. 

“My god,” he could see right through the stallion. Entranced, Roger looked up at the beautiful animal who came nearer to him. “You’re gorgeous.” he extended a hand up, the horse nudged it, being playful, so Roger took up his courage and stroked the animal’s long face for a wondrous moment. The drummer kept on stroking the horse until it began to fade from sight. 

The horse had calmed him right down and made him feel a little more in control. Roger turned to look into the churchyard and it seemed like he was seeing a vision of the past. Families and couples roamed around, some bearing picnic baskets, children laughing and playing, loved ones placing flowers on graves.. then the scene melted from view. 

“What is it out here?” he muttered as ambulance sirens got closer. Now that his adrenaline rush was over, Roger became aware of a throbbing pain starting up in his upper left side. He flagged down the ambulance as it came over the small hill and showed them the two lifeless looking figures on the cold ground. 

Two ambulances came in total so they could administer to their patients properly, Roger rode with Liz while trying to ignore his own pain. 

**

“Roger!” Freddie embraced him followed by John. “You didn’t come back for hours, darling. We’ve been worried sick about the three of you! Why didn’t you call us?”

“What happened out there?” John asked mildly. “You look shocked and drained, Rog. Are you all right?” 

“I-” Roger gasped as the pain in his side turned up the intensity. He felt something trickle out of the side of his mouth but didn’t remember drinking anything. He put a finger up to his mouth and it came away red. Freddie and John paled upon seeing it for a split second. 

“Oh god! Doctor!” John barked, a surprisingly authoritative tone emitting from him. “He’s bleeding from the mouth!” 

“I’m-” the drummer was about ready to reassure everyone of his condition when his knees buckled and a gurney caught him on the way down. Freddie’s anxiety ridden race gave him a don’t-you-dare look. 

“YOU ARE NOT FINE!” the singer shrieked. John looked like he agreed completely. Swiftly Roger was stripped of his clothes, put in a gown, then x-rayed where he had pain. Freddie and John were shut out from their friends, left to wait in a private room until there was news. They saw Roger being taken away, mask strapped to his mouth and nose, cardiac leads being put on his chest in a hurry. The drummer was confused to say the least but all of his thoughts were erased as a doctor intubated him and pushed sedatives into his bloodstream. 

A few hours later a doctor came into the room, introduced herself and sat them down. “First off they all will be fine. Mr. May had a badly broken ankle in the crash and he needs surgery to set it right so that’s what our orthopedist is doing right now. Ms. Hammond is concussed and has a minor fracture to her right arm, what we would call a greenstick fracture but very minor. She doesn’t need surgery to set it fortunately, but does have a concussion. She revived enough to tell us that she wants you both; she’s on some painkillers right now though they are making her sleepy.” 

“What about Roger?” 

“Mr. Taylor has a ruptured spleen and he needs immediate surgery to stop the bleeding. Our trauma team is prepping him right now. Are either one of you his power of attorney?”

“We both are,” John signed off on the paperwork. “do whatever you have to.” 

“We like to call that carte blanche operating,” the doctor tried to get a smile out of them but it didn’t quite work. “your friend is over here.” she showed them to Liz in a little room. Freddie picked up the door handle and pulled, immediately marching over to his friend and sitting down in the chair while John walked past him. 

“Oh my babe,” the bassist went over to Liz who looked small and fragile in the bed, giving her a kiss right away as Freddie sat down. “my Liz.” He put the guardrail down so he could pick up his girlfriend’s hands which seemed a little cold to him. He massaged them a little, trying to warm them up, noting the IV line in her opposite arm. Liz’s right arm had the fracture and it was already covered by a purple cast which seemed to him very thin but strong. 

Freddie seemed lost in a trance of his own as he eyed her cast. “John what do you suppose happened out there?” 

“We won’t know until she rouses enough to tell us, Freddie.” he said gently. “Liz,” he put his face down next to hers, brushing a light kiss on her lips. “wake up, sweetheart.” 

Liz’s breath hitched then her eyes opened up to half mast because of the drugs, John supposed. “Liz?” he touched his nose to hers which made her smile. 

“Hi, John. Freddie.” she gave her good hand to the singer who took it, running his fingers over her warm flesh. John and Freddie both didn’t like the way Liz looked, drugged up and completely out of it but they knew the drugs would wear off eventually. The medic had a far off look in her eyes as she talked to them, making them wonder if she was even paying attention. 

“What happened out there, darling?” 

Liz exhaled, not sure if she was up to telling them but decided to just do it anyway. “We were driving along near a church and we saw something in the road. It stopped and charged at us, we all were spooked, Roger yanked the wheel and we crashed into the side of the road right into a stone wall of a churchyard. Brian and I got hurt but Roger seemed to be fine.” 

“Damn.” 

“Brian and I saw something later that scared us half to death. How is he?” 

“Brian’s having surgery for his broken ankle right now. You have a concussion and a minor fracture.” Freddie glanced at John, wondering whether to say anything about Roger but John shook his head. Liz saw the exchange between the two of them and immediately got agitated. 

“What is it? Where’s Roger? He should be here with you two.” 

“Well, he’s not..” 

“Freddie, what happened to him?” she tried to sit up but her stomach threatened to retaliate on her. The medic fell back against her bed with a groan of pain. “You two tell me before I get up and collapse! I have a right to know no matter what condition I am in! Where is Roger?!”

“All right, all right, girl!” Freddie gave in. “Calm yourself down before you pass out again!”

“Let me, Freddie,” John put his arms on the side of the bed as he sat in the chair, looking at his injured girlfriend straight in the eye. “Roger’s been badly hurt in the crash, Liz.” 

“How bad?” 

“Roger collapsed from the pain as soon as you guys were in the hospital. A doctor told us that he’s got a ruptured spleen which needs major surgery.” 

“My god.. but he’ll be all right, I know he will.” 

“We know he’ll pull through all right, love,” John soothed. “we will update you of news on our friends when it becomes available. We want you to sleep now, all right?” 

“It’s going to be a long time before we hear anything,” Liz’s eyes closed reluctantly. Freddie gave her hand a kiss. 

“They know to come here when there is news.” 

“Think you can rest now?” the bassist stroked Liz’s hair, knowing that it calmed her down. 

“I don’t have a choice.” 

“What was it that spooked you guys?”

“Freddie it looked like a horse and carriage on the lane. We thought it was coming towards us.” her voice petered out as her eyes closed. Freddie and John exchanged looks, each asking the other wordlessly if Liz was being serious or if it was a drug induced rambling. They would have to question Brian when he woke up from surgery in order to settle the question once and for all. 

“She’s sleeping,” John noticed as his girlfriend’s breathing became shallow and regular. “Let her rest now Freddie, we’ve all had a long day.” he cautioned. 

“Right.” Freddie put his feet up on the side of the bed where Liz didn’t reach then relaxed his head back, closing his eyes. John pillowed his head on the side of Liz’s bed, trying to protect her as much as possible. As used as he was to her getting sick and hurt on occasion he always subconsciously tried to protect her. 

“She looks so helpless, frightened and alone,” Freddie echoed his friend’s thoughts. “not to mention injured from her experience tonight.” 

“I think she looks rather relaxed and at peace while she sleeps,” John retorted. “how about we try to grab some sleep ourselves?” 

“Right,” Freddie opened up a small cabinet and found two pillows. He used one as a cushion for the chair and tossed the other one to John. “here you go.” 

“Thanks.” John managed to maneuver himself so he was curled up next to Liz on the bed, being careful of her arm. The bassist put his hand on her upper arm, giving it a little rub as she stirred in her sleep and sighed. He really liked her little sighs so it was music to his ears, meaning that she was content and for the most part pain free. Freddie smiled at them both benevolently before he closed his eyes. 

**

Three hours later the orthopedist woke up John and Freddie, not disturbing Liz in any way then told them what was going on with Brian. “We managed to set his ankle properly and he should mend well in about four to six weeks. The surgery was uneventful and he’s sleeping it off in our post anesthesia care unit.” 

“Good news,” Freddie was encouraged. “only now Roger has to have good news then we can move on from that.” 

Another three hours and thirty minutes later they were updated on Roger. His prognosis was excellent, they had stopped the bleeding, and he was sleeping right next to Brian. 

Liz spent the night in the emergency department and was discharged the next morning. She did not have any energy to visit Roger or Brian so John took her directly to the upscale hotel they were staying in, putting her at once to bed and telling her to not get up. 

“No worries, John. Give my best to Brian and Roger. We’ll see them soon.” she lay down on the bed as he spread a blanket over her. Liz’s voice grew a little faint. “I wish I didn’t feel so damn tired...” 

“You’ll be back up to speed in no time.” John kissed her goodbye, inwardly not wanting to leave her while she slept in a strange hotel in a foreign land. She looked very vulnerable lying on that bed alone and he wanted to lie next to her and read but he had to go visit the others. 

“Hope so..” Liz trailed off, closing her eyes. The bassist gave her a look of pure longing mingled with lust then very reluctantly left the hotel with Freddie.   
**

Over the course of the next week, Brian was discharged from the hospital and like Liz, went to the hotel to recuperate and gradually rebuild his stamina. Roger took longer to heal but he eventually made it back and was welcomed with open arms. 

“Liz!” Roger sank onto his bed but hugged her warmly. “I’m so glad to see you alert again!” 

“Thanks, Rog.” she smiled at him from the neighboring bed. “How are you feeling?” 

“Sore,” he pressed an ice pack to his incision. “I’m mending too slowly for my liking!” 

“Same here.” Liz and Brian uttered with one breath. It was a source of irritation for Brian to keep playing his guitar sitting down but he kept it up. Liz was finding it very inconvenient to live her life with a cast; she had to rely on John to help her wash up every day as she couldn’t get her cast wet. He always said he didn’t mind and turned it very erotic for her which she liked. Since she’d gotten hurt and John helping her out every day the both of them had been intimate more times than they could count. 

Freddie shepherded John and Brian out of the room, leaving the two alone. “Come on darlings, leave them to bore each other with their stories!” 

“Liz,” Roger stretched himself on the bed carefully. “you awake?” 

“Yeah. Not for long though.” 

“Allergies?”

“Yeah. What’s on your mind, Rog?” 

“You saw what I did on the night of the accident, right?” 

“The horse and carriage yeah. I swear to you it came right to us.” 

“I could say the same thing. Anyway I heard you and Brian scream-what was that about?”

“Brian and I saw the horse and carriage right across the road from us and it started walking then running towards us. It was so convincing and we both thought we were going to get flattened. A big animal like that could have trampled us to death.” 

“Is it possible that you saw a ghost?” he’d been turning that possibility in his mind since he woke up from the drugs after surgery. The drummer had a few dreams about the encounter as well. 

Liz didn’t discount that theory at all. “Anything’s possible, Roger. Especially on the night of All Hallow’s Eve. Did you notice it was a full moon that night?”

“No. Anyway after I found you two all huddled together and unconscious I saw a horse. No carriage, just a horse. It came towards me and I was able to pat it. Something seemed to happen to me then as I could see the horse, touch it as if it were real, then it disappears and I turn around to look into the churchyard and I see it full. Not grave full but people wandering around from the Victorian era, they even had picnic baskets and were having a jolly good time.” 

“Really?” Liz’s eyes lit up. “Roger you experienced a residual haunting. On Halloween the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest and you saw a scene from the past. Now I know you’re naturally a skeptic but keep your mind open.” 

“I hear you.” Roger took a few painkillers. 

“Now, relax your mind and keep it nice and empty so you can sleep.” she directed him. “We were all stunned that you were almost in critical condition when you arrived at the hospital. I guess the adrenaline didn’t wear off so you didn’t feel the pain you were in. Anyway we are glad to have you back.” a quiet snore drifted to her ears. 

Liz got up from the other bed, seeing Roger lying down and sound asleep already. She affectionately kissed Roger on the cheek. “An open mind works wonders, blondie.”


	18. Pyrotechnics Gone Wrong

“Hey John,” Brian greeted the bassist as he got out of Brian’s car. Roger had gone to visit his parents, Freddie had disappeared to an art gallery, and John had just been returning from dropping Freddie off. “have fun out there?” the guitarist walked down the flagstoned pathway wearing his black bell bottoms and striped blue and white button up top. 

“More or less. Freddie kept trying to rope me into viewing the gallery with him but I don’t have the same appreciation for that sort of thing that he does,” the bassist shut the door. It was a cold autumn day and they were on tour, this time in Ireland to test out some new stage designs and pyrotechnics. “where’s Liz?” he tossed the key to Brian, walking up the little pathway to the rental condo the record company had put them up in. 

“She’s resting.” Brian looked a little apprehensive as he informed John of that fact, not sure of what the bassist would do. 

“Is she sick again?” concern etched itself onto his face as Brian opened up the door to the dank little hallway. 

“She’s had some trouble today, John. I don’t want to sugarcoat it but she’s had some really bad allergy attacks.”

“What kind of attacks? Did her asthma flare up?” 

“Yeah. I helped her out with her hayfever and she can barely talk at the moment.” 

“Poor thing,” John set aside a plastic bag containing guitar strings on the table then went upstairs with Brian to check on the medic. 

“Liz? You awake?” Brian drew down the shades to prevent the light from coming in. John saw a dark shadow on the bed that wasn’t moving. He walked over to the figure, pulling off the sneakers and sitting on the edge of the bed. In the low light of the room the bassist could tell that Liz didn’t feel up to any kind of conversation as her eyes were red from her allergies and her head was all foggy. 

John put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, rubbing it, looking worried as she didn’t respond to him. Brian also looked concerned as she wasn’t usually that foggy but their worries stopped when she exhaled, coughing some, then opened up her eyes. 

“John,” she rasped, sounding very congested, almost like she had laryngitis. “hi.” 

“Hi to you too. How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit by a semi.” Liz could barely utter a syllable. John chuckled then gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Right, why don’t I go check on dinner then?” Brian grew a little uncomfortable as John pulled out a jar of menthol and eucalyptus mixed together then withdrew from the room. 

“You sound really congested my sweet,” he opened up her button up shirt, glancing down as far as her clothing would let him. “how about I help you breathe easier?” 

“I might have to let you,” the bassist picked out a small gob of the salve and spread it all over her chest, making her tingle as Liz felt the ingredients do their work. She could breathe again to some degree but the medic knew it was only a respite. “I’ll be laid up for days in this condition at least until the pollen count goes down. God this sucks.” 

“I know,” John empathized with her, capping the jar and putting it away. “we have to go to the venue tonight and do a run through of the show with the new pyrotechnics. I hope that we will be able to have a trouble free time of it tonight.” 

“I hope so too.” Liz sneezed into a tissue. 

“Did you take Benadryl today?”

“I did a few minutes ago. It’ll take effect in a few minutes.” 

“By then you’ll be comatose,” John knew the drill very well by now. Liz usually suffered from breathing problems and allergy induced hayfever in the fall with asthma attacks and the like until late October to early November came around. 

Right now it was late September, at a time when her allergies were at their worst. Freddie had been in to see her before he left, offering her tea and telling her to take a hot shower or bath to ease her congestion which she ended up doing. John pulled back a small braid Liz had woven into her hair when it fell into her face. She had recently taken to braiding the hair framing her face to keep it back and John had to agree that it was becoming. 

“Soup’s on!” Brian called. 

“Are you hungry?” the bassist asked Liz, taking her hands in his own. “I can bring you something if you’re not up to going to the kitchen.” 

“No, I just want to sleep this off.” she told him, eyelids fluttering closed. 

“All right, sweetie,” the bassist checked her for a fever which she didn’t have. “I’ll see you back here tonight. I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Thanks.” her congested and hoarse voice drifted to him. John could tell that her medication was starting to take full effect on her and she would be asleep for up to 10 hours at a whack. He went into the bathroom, dampened a washcloth and put it onto his ill girlfriend’s brow. 

“Come on, John!” Brian called again. The bassist got up, made sure all the lights were off, then put a fleece blanket over Liz so she wouldn’t get cold. He left the door ajar so he could hear her if she had trouble and needed him. 

“So how’s she doing?” Brian turned off the stovetop, moved to the table, sat down and began to eat. John joined him, unenthusiastic about the guitarist’s vegetarian slop he’d fixed but ate it anyway, making a mental note to get more protein later on. 

“She’s pretty miserable,” John told him. “she likes the fall but just can’t tolerate the pollen.” 

“I know,” Brian acknowledged. “do we know what time Roger and Freddie will meet us at the venue?” 

“I think around 7.” 

“All right so we’ll leave in about half an hour.” 

**

At the venue that night, Roger and Freddie were already there when John and Brian showed up. The singer and drummer were already practicing some of their songs on the instruments; Freddie playing on the piano happily, then spied John picking up his bass and Brian picking up his guitar.

“How is Liz doing?” Freddie asked immediately on seeing them. “She was pretty miserable when I left her.” 

“She’s doing OK right now-we left her in the grip of Benadryl.” Brian answered, tweaking the foot pedal. 

“Did you hear her last night? Liz was sneezing and sniffling so much,” Roger inspected his drum sticks critically. He hit the snare drum to make sure it was weighted properly. “they call that allergic rhinitis but it’ll pass soon. The pollen count is supposed to go way down overnight.” 

“They think that, eh? I’ll believe it when I see it.” Freddie hit the F chord. “I don’t trust those meteorologists because they’re always wrong!” 

Brian chuckled. “I think Liz’s sniffling nose is the most accurate way to gauge where the pollen index is at any one time.” 

“We know that one for a fact. Anyway how’s the pyro guy going to light up the night?” 

“He’s in the wings and going to give us the lowdown.” the road crew and the guy in charge of the pyrotechnics gave them a tour of what was going to happen which promptly made Freddie nervous. They were in an indoor venue though thankfully they had plenty of air circulation. The fans would love it but Freddie caught Roger’s eye and knew he was thinking the same thing. 

“They’re going to detonate these fireworks and want us on the stage so we get a feel for it. I don’t think that this is going to work.” John murmured to Roger. 

“I know… give it a chance, that’s what a run through is for.” 

“All right then.” apprehensively the two of them stood back while Freddie interrogated the pyrotechnics guy on what they should do, then all of them took their places on the stage. Roger and John shot each other looks, saw the also hesitant look on Brian’s face but Freddie was oblivious to their concerns. The singer sat at the piano, grinning broadly, giving the cue for the guys to set off the fireworks. 

“Go!” a barrage of confusing flashes and loud noises combined with the smell of smoke and gunpowder went off, enveloping everyone in the middle of it. 

“Shit!” John dropped his bass, grabbed Freddie, then crouched down low, glancing up in time to see that a set of rigging was falling so he pushed Freddie out of the way. Roger was blown clear off his drum set, colliding into Brian and both heard a disturbing rumbling sound. The guitarist tried to make himself tiny on the floor so he’d be less of a target, scrunching himself up, hands around his head. 

An eerie silence seemed to echo through the venue, dust raining down in thick clouds John was trapped under rigging to the left of the stage, Brian was trapped to the right, Roger was nowhere to be seen. A live wire dangled from the ceiling, spitting sparks occasionally but then it stopped, indicating a power outage. Freddie was lying smack center stage, Roger’s drum kit was piled around him in an ungainly heap, a shallow cut on his leg and one of his arms. 

Freddie stirred, coughing and hacking madly as the dust settled on the stage. He sat up, rubbing the dust out of his eyes and shaking it out of his hair. The singer stood up, making sure none of his bones were broken then saw what tatters the stage was in. All of their instruments were covered in dust, two rigging frames for the lights, one on each side of the stage had fallen, yet he couldn’t see any other member of the band. 

“John! Roger! Brian!” he raced over to where John had been, seeing the rigging in the way. “John!” in the dimness of the stage Freddie could see that the power was out and auxiliary lights had come on. 

“John!” Freddie clutched at the rigging, trying to move it. “My god! John, talk to me!” 

The bassist was lying on his side motionless. “Damnit! I can’t move this damned scaffolding!” he tried but cut his hands up a little bit. “Where in the hell is the emergency phone!” Freddie ran over to the wings, looking around frantically, then found a small black box with yellow reflective tape on the front and sides. The singer tore open the box with such force it came off in his hands. He threw the lid away with a furious growl, took the phone receiver and gave information to the operator. 

“Good! Send the bloody fire department too! My band’s trapped!” Freddie kicked the wall next to the phone and a wooden panel fell off from the ceiling. “Damn!” he hung up, remembering that Liz’s first aid kid had been stashed in the rehearsal room. Running back to the room he got it, hefted it up, then ran back into the stage area. 

“God it’s too quiet in here!” he fell to his knees beside where John was lying. “Come on, John!” Freddie pulled out the smelling salts jar, uncapped it, then reaching over, got John to inhale some of it. The bassist revived, coughing a little bit, then blinked his eyes. “Here!” he passed John a bottle of eyedrop solution to flush out the dirt and dust. “John, talk to me!” 

“I’m OK, Freddie, just dazed.” John hastened to placate his friend’s fussing, finding a headache blossming at his temples. 

“Can you move?” 

“Ugh, not really. My ankle’s caught,” he indicated the corner of the scaffolding rig that was trapping his ankle down. “can you help me shift this off?” 

“Looks like it hurts a lot,” Freddie sympathized as he seized the edge of the rig and heaved it up. “I got it! Move quickly now!” 

John took a moment to crawl out to safety, Freddie let down the rig with a huge bang, then he felt a searing pain in his ankle. The bassist let out a cry unlike anything Freddie had ever heard from him before. He was at his friend’s side in a second. “What is it, John?”

“My ankle’s killing me! Have you got any pain medication in that thing?” he unsnapped the latches on the sides of the box and sorted through it, happy to find painkillers were right on top. 

“My god I wish Liz was here to administer to you! I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“She’s sick right now, Freddie, I think you’ll do.” John tried to reassure him. “We will be fine. Maybe Roger would be able to help-where is he?” 

“Shit! I have no idea!” Freddie paled, snapping the locks back onto the kit. “We’ll find them! Can you walk?” 

“No but I can hobble..” John found a long plank that had fallen from beside the drum kit. He grabbed it and vaguely reminiscent of Tiny Tim he managed to swing a brisk pace as Freddie ran over to the other side of the stage. 

“The hell! Look at all of this! We are going to sue all those pyro assholes before we’re done!” the singer swore as he pulled a flashlight out of the kit and looked at the rigging mess. 

“Come to that later, Freddie,” John sat down on the drum riser. “I’ll take care of the litigation.” 

“Yes, never mind that at the moment. Brian!” the singer exclaimed. Brian was lying half in and half out of the scaffolding amid the stage lights. “Oh god he looks like a mess!” the guitarist was clouded in dust, several cuts and scrapes had been opened up on his body, and he had a big bruise on his left thigh where falling glass had cut away a large chunk of his pant leg. 

“Hang on,” John ambled forward, sitting on an amp, he was able to lean forward enough and reach Brian. The guitarist’s left arm was reaching forward so John opened up the medical tackle box and began to tend to a large cut on his friend’s arm. “pass him the salts will you, so he’ll wake up.” 

“Right.” rousing Brian was not easy. He had been lying on his side, the arm that John was tending to had broken glass in it so the bassist had begun to dig that out. Freddie had to reach in and tilt Brian’s head so that he was facing his friends, revealing a long cut that started at his hairline, blood trickling down the side of his face. 

“We’ll get him fixed up soon. Did you call?”

“I found the emergency phone. Those pyro fuckers just let us stew here! They ran off!” 

“Save your venom!” John cut him off. “Do you think we can get the rig off of Brian?” 

“No! You can’t take any weight on your leg!” Freddie exclaimed. “Don’t start getting ideas you aren’t physically able to do, all right?” 

“Fine.” John relented, picking out the large chunks of glass from Brian’s arm. Freddie picked up the jar of smelling salts, uncapped it, then waved it under Brian’s nose. 

“Come on Brian, all right?” Freddie crooned, trying to get closer to his friend. “You were the closest to the explosion; I hope this didn’t permanently disable you! We’ll find out when you’re alert- come on already!” 

The guitarist opened up his eyes halfway, bolstered by Freddie’s incessant talking. Something was really wrong; he thought his eyes were open but all he could see was blackness. Groaning loudly, a searing pain blasted itself through his head and he let out an anguished cry. 

“Brian, it’s all right!” Freddie reached through the rigging and grasped his friend’s arm, noticing that his friend wasn’t looking at him. “Deacy’s here too, he’s tending to your arm!” 

John looked up from his work, binding a bandage around Brian’s injured arm then saw that there were shards of glass resting too near Brian’s eyes for his comfort. “Freddie, Bri’s got glass near his eye.. take this bottle of saline and flush it out.” 

“Right!” Freddie picked up the bottle, picked his way to get closer to Brian, then told his friend to keep still and keep his eyes closed. “I’m just going to get rid of this glass near your eye, all right? Just stay.” 

“R-Rog...” Brian whispered. “Fred..” 

“Shhh,” Freddie was glad he was in such good physical shape; getting around the shattered stage lights and dead wiring was proving tricky. Finally he reached his friend, giving him a few comforting words, then began to flush out his eye. It took a few minutes and a constant stream of saline but Freddie got all of the glass away from Brian’s eye. “you can open them now darling, do you see me?” 

Brian carefully opened up his eyes, expecting to see a darkened atmosphere and a wrecked stage but all he got was blackness. “No, Freddie.” 

“All right, let’s not panic on that front,” his friend told him sternly. “let’s focus on the fire crew getting you out of here, okay? We’ll have the best oculist in town take a look at your eyes. I’m sure it’s something temporary.” 

“OK.” Brian and Freddie worked together to free himself from the wreckage, rewarded when Brian crawled briskly forward and John caught him in his arms. “John, that you?” he murmured. 

“Yes, Bri,” knowing how scared his friend was John held him close like he did with Liz earlier that day. “let me get some of that blood off of you.” the bassist mopped Brian’s face free of blood, pressing a bandage to the gash on his forehead. 

“All right, where’s Roger!” Freddie walked towards the back of the stage where he saw Roger’s foot peeking out from several wooden slats. “Rog!” the singer bounded on top of the pile of slats, digging his friend out. “Come on Rog, I’ve already had enough nasty shocks to the system today; it’s not nice to scare your friends like this!” he was rewarded in his efforts when Roger’s bloody head became visible from the pile. His eyes were firmly closed and sticky with matted blood from a few cuts in his hairline. “Roger!” Freddie knelt down with the medical kit, opening it up, instantly taking care of the cut. “Time to wake up now! This bottle has become my best friend today!” he gave the drummer a whiff of smelling salts from the jar and Roger reacted the same as Brian and John did. 

“Now now, come on, no moving until the paramedics get here!” Freddie was buzzing high on adrenaline like a concert would give him but for a very difficult situation. “Where do you hurt?” 

“Ah god!” Roger cried out as a fiery hot spasm engulfed his left thigh. “Right here!” he indicated with his hand, clenching his hands and his eyes shut. 

“Stay calm!” Freddie freed his friend from the slats and saw a long wooden splinter, about three inches long and half an inch wide, lodged into his friend’s thigh muscle. Roger was also bleeding from a chest and abdominal wound so the singer managed to assist his friend in getting down from the pile of slats that used to be the drum risers. 

“Oh god, I’m gonna die,” Roger hacked dryly, trying to get the dust out of his lungs. “John? Brian? You guys OK?”

“Not really,” John told him. “I can’t walk, Brian’s all cut up, Freddie’s livid about this. The ambulances should be here any minute.” 

“Good..” Roger’s head drooped. “What’s with Brian?” 

“Something’s the matter with his eyes but we’ll get it fixed.” John reassured both of them, his hand on Brian’s shoulders. Roger put his hand in Brian’s, noting how tightly the guitarist gripped it in return. 

“Calm down, Bri, it’s OK,” the drummer saw Brian start to look a little panicky, his breath was coming faster and his eyes were darting around madly. “Bri, come on..,” Roger engulfed Brian’s torso in a hug, lifting him up and pressing his friend’s forehead into his his neck, rubbing his back in comfort. The last thing anyone wanted was Brian flying into a panic attack and making his injuries worse. 

Sirens blared closer and closer. Freddie saw what was going on with Brian, joining in the hug, telling Brian they would never be Queen without him. 

**

At the hospital, the band all had their cuts and injuries stitched up, assessed for internal damage, etc. John was diagnosed with a bad muscle sprain, left arm rotator cuff tear so he would have to use a sling when he wasn’t on stage, Freddie had sprained his right arm when he freed Roger from the slats and bruised a few ribs, Roger had suffered a concussion, broke his left wrist, and broken several ribs. 

Brian was a different story. He’d had his eyes looked at by the ophthalmologist on call, was diagnosed with some heat damage to the nerves in his eyes which was why he couldn’t see. He was lying on his hospital bed, letting the nurses stitch up the cut on his forehead when the other members of the band came in. 

“Hey Bri, we’re here for you, pal.” Roger was lying in the recliner to take some strain off his broken ribs. John sat on the edge of the bed with his crutch ready in case he needed to get up, Freddie was standing in the corner, his dark eyes fixed on Brian. 

“Hi, guys,” Brian was drowsy from the drugs but appreciated his friends being nearby. “these drugs are messing with my head.” 

“Well I think we all got a dose of those heavy painkillers,” John chuckled. “we all need to stay here for observation tonight. I’ve got to call Liz… well maybe not..she won’t be awake from her Benadryl stupor until tomorrow anyway.” 

“So nurse what’s the report on our friend’s eyes?” Roger inquired. 

“The ophthalmologist says it’s just residual heat damage to his nerves that’s all. In about two days he’ll regain his eyesight and will be as good as new.” the nurse said confidently. “It may not seem like it now to him but I’ve had several of these cases and they always turn out well.” 

“The odds are good then?”

“Very much in his favor, Mr. Mercury. We’ve had to give him a light sedative to prevent him from going into a panic attack or shock. He’ll be as good as new in two days.” 

“Good. I think he’s already drifting off..” Freddie saw Brian’s features relax and his breathing became shallow and more even by the second. “time for us to sleep. I think my adrenaline rush wore off by now.” they all retired to their rooms to sleep for the night. John was doubled up with Brian, Roger and Freddie took the next double room across the hall.

Everyone received sedatives that night to help them sleep off their ordeal so nobody dreamed of anything at all. 

At around 2 AM back in the condo, Liz sat up in her bed with a wheeze, eyes darting wildly in several directions. “Something’s happened to the guys!” she felt her chest starting to tighten up a little bit, fumbled for her inhaler and took a breath, sighing in relief as the inhaled steroid forced her lungs to behave. The pull of the Benadryl brought her back to sleep faster than she would like, forcing her to abandon her feeling of unease about her friends. 

**

With the morning came Brian’s return to full consciousness and the memory of what had happened to him the previous day. He couldn’t see yet except for some lightness around the edges of his vision but had been told the lightness would return in degrees by day. The guitarist, with some assistance, had gotten into his clothes, had his IV taken out, and was waiting for his friends. 

“We’re here, darling!” Freddie trumpeted loudly. Brian felt something slid onto his face. “In case those blasted press people are wandering around I thought these sunglasses would be a distraction so they don’t find out about your condition. We’ll all be wearing them.” 

“Good move, Freddie. Does Liz know of our predicament yet?” 

“Not yet. She’s going to be pretty out of it due to the hayfever drugs she’s been taking,” John’s gentle voice drifted to Brian. “we’ll sign you out and get back to her.” 

“No need,” the nurse announced. “you’re all officially discharged!” 

“Great! Bri, we’re going to guide you-there’s a limo waiting at the door.” Roger put his hand on Brian’s upper arm, the guitarist stood up, then with Roger’s hand in the crook of Brian’s arm he was able to steer his friend out of the several corridors and out to the waiting limo. Freddie opened up the door for him, as nonchalantly as possible getting him inside the car. 

“I can see a little sunshine.” Brian was glad to see that at least. 

Roger exchanged a look with Freddie, wondering what to say to his friend to encourage him but Freddie gave a little shake of his head indicating he thought Roger should leave it alone. John missed the nonverbal exchange, putting his hand on Brian’s for a moment and saying, “That’s good, Brian. You’re on the road to recovery.” 

“It’s step by step.” Freddie was quiet when he said that. 

**

When they pulled up to the condo Liz was waiting for them at the door. At the first sight of John she bounded down the walk and hugged him hard. “Oh John! I had a horrible nightmare about you guys and you were all hurt, but-what’s wrong with Brian?” Roger was guiding him out of the car and up the walk. 

“There was an accident yesterday,” John told her quietly. “come with me while I tell you all about it. I don’t want you getting upset or upsetting Brian.” he took her wrist in a firm grip and went to their room to tell her everything. 

“Where’s Liz?” Brian sat down in the living room with Freddie while Roger went to change his clothes. 

“She’s with John who is telling her just what went on yesterday. Are you hungry, Bri?” 

“Yes I am!” Brian listed some choices which Freddie got for him, telling him to eat up and regain his strength so he could mend properly. By the time he was done, Roger and Freddie were both making up lunch and Liz was done talking with John. 

She approached the guitarist almost hesitantly, not knowing what to do or what to say to avoid upsetting him. John sensed her unease, squeezing her hand, pressing a kiss to her temple, whispering, “Just be yourself.” 

“I’ll try,” Liz whispered back. Brian started a little bit as she sat down next to him on the couch, seeing his eyes open and not focused on anything. “hey Bri.” 

“Hey yourself. You sound a little better.” he could tell that the congestion in her sinuses had begun to clear up a little bit. “Come over here and lay down with me.” 

“All right,” Brian was usually a little more reserved but with his injuries and temporary loss of sight he seemed to need more physical affection than usual. “snuggle up.” he put his long legs up on the couch, using pillows so he could lay down. Liz was sandwiched between him and the couch back, her ear over his heart. “Are you really all right, Brian?” 

The guitarist smiled, picturing the medic’s expression of concern in his mind. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “I will be all right soon, Liz.” 

“I’m glad to hear of your positivity, Bri.” he said nothing but put his arm in the back of her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. 

“Never mind about me now; I want you to get well. You still sound congested.” 

“Fine. I’m still in the grip of hayfever and Benadryl so I’m pretty much out of commission.” her eyelids started getting heavy. “Can’t recall the last time I slept so much.” 

“How about the last time you were sick?” Roger quipped, going over to the bulky recliner in the corner and lying down. He opened up his shirt, drawing his hand down over the bandages that covered his belly. “I think we’re going to be sleeping a lot in the next days.” 

“Fastest way to recover is to sleep.” Freddie remembered Liz saying that a long time ago. The singer yawned loudly as he and John sat on the love seat underneath the windows. A low rumble of thunder grumbled in the distance followed by a flash of lightning. “Do you hear that, Liz?”

Brian listened for a moment, hearing Liz’s breathing transition into sleep. “She’s sleeping, Freddie.” 

“She does sleep a lot during the fall. I think we all need to take naps now.” Roger was already out on the recliner, John leaned his head back, putting his legs up on Freddie’s lap, yawning. The singer pretended to grimace but didn’t mind at all. He put a cushion up underneath his head, spread the afghan out and went to sleep. Brian closed his eyes and made himself think of happy and pleasant things to help him sleep faster. 

**

The five were all so tired they slept through the afternoon, evening, and a good portion of the night. Freddie woke up to see everyone cloaked in darkness, then he woke John up. 

“Hey Deacy,” he muttered, giving his friend a little shake on the shoulder. “time to get Liz to bed.” 

John grumbled for a moment, then opened up his eyes. He glanced around the room, went over to his girlfriend, who was still ensconced next to Brian on the couch. “Hey Bri,” the bassist whispered. “time to head to bed.” 

Brian came awake slowly as John rousted Liz out but she was too sleepy to respond. Freddie picked her up and brought her into their room, taking off her clogs. “Bri, you got her started on this clog kick!” 

“I started, she followed, Freddie,” John guided the injured guitarist to his door, opened it up and from then on Brian could manage. “thanks, John.” 

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.” the bassist disappeared into his room as Freddie left. Liz had already been wearing her pajamas from the morning. Freddie didn’t bother to wake Roger up, knowing he was under the influence of some powerful painkillers and wouldn’t rouse even if a train came through their front room. 

Brian stripped off his clothes easily, throwing them in the direction that he knew the hamper was, then picked up his pajamas he’d left thrown on his pillow from the previous morning. It took him a few tries but he managed to put himself together and get into the bed without too much of a problem. A few minutes later nature started to call him. The loo was just across the hall and he didn’t need anyone to guide him to it. He stood up, walked forward, groped for the doorknob and got out into the hall. With one hand on the wall, he found the outline of the bathroom door, found the knob and let himself in. 

In fear of embarrassing himself(Roger’s room was right next to the bathroom), Brian clutched at the wall, sliding his fingers down until he found the cool tile of the bathroom counter top and sink. Confident he was in the right ballpark, he found the toilet and did what he needed to do. 

Once he was safely installed in his bed with his wounds throbbing, Brian closed his eyes, trying to keep positive thoughts in his mind as he tried to sleep. 

**

During the next day Brian did reasonably well considering his injuries. He was able to go and tend to personal needs without much intervention. Roger had to help him with getting the shower set up then wait outside the door if Brian needed him. Liz watched the others take to nursing each other without her help and had to smile; clearly she had rubbed off of them.

Late in the afternoon John was lying on the bed in the bedroom, reading a magazine and icing both his ankle and shoulder, Freddie was in his room scribbling down lyrics and humming to himself, and Roger was also icing down his broken ribs. Brian was sitting on the couch, holding his Red Special with his mind buzzing about new song ideas. 

Liz was dozing off on the couch next to Roger, her congestion was at full power once again to make her miserable. The pollen count hadn’t tapered down like they all thought so Liz was sniffly and sneezy once again. A bee drifted in through the open window, attracted by the sweet smell of her shampoo, crawled all over her, then decided to sting her. 

The bee’s stinger embedded itself into her skin, making her gasp loudly. She turned her head to see the bee instantly curl up and die, falling off of her shoulder. Roger glanced over at Liz to make sure she was all right then started as he saw her face turn pale. The drummer heard the bee, guessed she had been stung by it, then shouted for John. 

“What is it?” Brian inquired. 

“Liz’s been stung by a bee! She’s going into shock!” white faced, Roger caught Liz before she fell off the couch, swearing because of the weight on his ribcage. Freddie and John came running, John bearing the Epi pen kit in his hands. 

“She stopped breathing!” Brian’s face was almost as white as Liz’s. 

“Put her on the floor.” John directed, tearing open the kit, ripping off the shrink wrapping and loading up the pen. Freddie put Liz in the center of the floor so John had plenty of room to maneuver around. He made sure the pen was ready to go, pulled up Liz’s shirt, then banged the shot square in her chest. 

The entire band waited with bated breath, hoping the shot would work like it usually did, everyone in suspended animation for a moment. Roger imagined the epinephrine working its way through Liz’s bloodstream in seconds, giving her the extra boost her body needed to return to normal functioning. 

John dropped the pen back in the kit, seeing Liz’s chest inflate and deflate. “Liz?” her lungs filled again then she was engulfed in spasms as her body fought to regain her breath. “Come on girl, it’s OK.” John propped her up to help her breathe properly. “You’ve got to stop scaring us like this. It’s aging us every time you do this.” 

Liz chuckled as Freddie gave her a drink. Her eyes opened, seeing Freddie and Roger nearly white in the face, John was more in control as he’d gone through this before. “Hi, everyone.” 

“Hi. Well, you kept us on our toes I must say!” Freddie was rather a little over exuberant in an effort to make up for his panic. 

“Come on, let’s have you up.” the singer and John got Liz into a comfortable position on the couch as the bassist gave her antihistamine medication. 

“I think you set our own recoveries back a few days!” Roger protested, draping her in a blanket. “Try to be more careful, will you?” 

“I wonder if I shouldn’t get stung more often if you guys start fawning over me,” she teased. “the fall will end and this pollen and mold misery will become nothing more than a memory after a few weeks. Excuse me,” the medic crossed over to Brian who started at the sound of her voice. “I’m OK, Bri.” she kissed his cheek.

“I’m glad.” he sounded sincere. 

**

At the end of the two day waiting period or estimated time it would take for Brian’s nerves to heal, they seemed to be mending slower than anticipated. Liz came upon Brian the night of the fourth day without his sight and he was not in a good state of mind. 

“Brian?” she knocked on his door then came right in. “You missed supper, sweetie. Do you feel OK?” 

He turned at the sound of her voice and she could see tracks of tears falling down his face. “No, I’m not.” his voice was hoarse. 

“Oh, Bri.” Liz rapidly closed the gap between them, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Come on, come here.” she turned, her hands meeting Brian’s and pulling him up. “It’s been so hard on you these past four days I know. To go without your sight for so long must feel like an eternity.” 

“All because of those stupid idiots who did the pyro job!” Brian spewed out his venom. “John and Freddie are suing them into bankruptcy and holding them personally responsible. We need-I need to-”

“Brian, don’t!” Liz admonished sharply. “I know what you mean and yes they are being held accountable but what’s done is done! Maybe you should think about the positive side for a minute! You’ve become so clever you don’t need anyone to help you anywhere now. I forget that you lost your sight! You’ll still go onstage and tour with us, record with us, everything! Not much will change and you will adapt!” 

“Do you still think this is temporary?” he countered. “I might never know what the color blue looks like again! I will not be able to appreciate the beauty of a summer day on Lake Geneva or take in the wonders of Tahiti because my nerves don’t work right!” 

“Oh, Brian..” he was so frustrated and depressed so Liz could not deny him the right to pour out his feelings to her. The guitarist was more open and expressive now more than ever before as a result of the therapy he’d been to off and on for awhile. Brian felt his friend’s arms around him as Liz took him in the familiar hold, putting the side of his face on her shoulder her hand near his neck, the other arm around his back. The others had dubbed it the mother hold as a playful mockery of Liz. 

Brian spewed out his anger, frustration, and finally told Liz how useless he felt now that he was clinically blind. The medic felt Brian’s tears trail down her neck and chest; at the back of her mind she had to wonder if Brian was trying to steal a gaze down her shirt as her pajama top was very low cut. 

Then sadly she remembered he was blind. Liz wanted to think it wasn’t a big loss since he could find his way around and still rip through the guitar solos like he was on fire but she knew better. It was a huge loss; catastrophic. It took away a part of Brian’s independence and shattered a lot of his personal self worth. The band and Liz could parrot all the feel good phrases they wanted but he would never truly be himself again. 

In spite of herself trying to be the strong one, Liz felt her breath hitch which caused Brian to stir in alarm. 

“Are you OK?” he clutched at her waist. 

She couldn’t answer for a moment then forced herself to so Brian wouldn’t call in John. “Brian, honestly, I’m scared too.” 

“For me?”

“Yes, hon. I want you to have your eyesight back so you can look at me and tell me what you’re thinking without a word.” 

“I.. I don’t know why I’m so worked up..” he tried to backtrack. “Liz.. I’m grateful to be alive, really..” 

“Bri, you’re mourning the loss of a part of yourself. Things aren’t normal anymore as long as your eyesight’s gone. I understand. I have an idea,” she gently separated herself from Brian. “I’m going to get my eyeball scope and check your eyes.” after a moment she was back, picking up the battery powered device and peering into Brian’s eyes. “See if I can get some definitive answers. Lie down.” 

Liz turned on the scope, keeping the light about five centimeters from Brian’s eye, moving it around. She could see a fine network of blood vessels which were completely normal. Nothing was out of the ordinary though Brian was due to get his eyes checked the next day. 

“I don’t see anything wrong. Perhaps tomorrow will be the day you get your eyesight back.” 

“I really hope so. For my sanity.” he agreed. Liz pulled the covers over him. 

“Do you think you can sleep now?” 

“I think so,” Brian felt Liz’s hand press down on the mattress beside him as she picked up her ocular device. “give me a kiss.” she pecked him on the cheek, he did the same, and she left the room. 

**

“Oh!” Liz gasped as she shut the door and turned, seeing everyone clustered around the door. “I’ve had too many close calls all right?” 

“How is he?”

“Well Roger, he’s distressed. Brian’s in considerable distress because his eyesight is taking longer to heal than originally thought. It’s not uncommon but every day that passes could mean his eyesight is gone for good. The longer it takes to heal the less likely it is he’ll recover fully.” 

“He sees the ophthalmologist tomorrow, right?”

“Yes and I don’t think he’ll be able to cope with permanent blindness, guys. Come on, we all need sleep.” they had been retiring early since they all got hurt but nobody was able to get out and enjoy the nightlife until they healed so it wasn’t a big deal. 

John got himself into bed, turning on his good side so he could see Liz better. “How about a little action tonight?” trailing his good hand onto Liz’s chest, he unbuttoned her pajama top, brushing a kiss on her belly and working his way up. Liz struggled then had to banish the thoughts of Brian from her mind. John sensed he was losing her so he slid his hand underneath her pajama pants and stuck a few fingers into her outer lips, gently tickling her clit. 

“Oh god!” that worked! Her back arched, making John giggle when he pressed his lips to her chest. 

“Fine, I’ll submit!” the bassist trailed his fingers down her jawline, leaning over to kiss her lips sweetly. 

Roger returned to his room, mind abuzz with Brian’s predicament. He wouldn’t love his friend any less if he did turn out to be blind, he knew it, but also knew that their lives would not be the same. The drummer pressed an ice pack to his broken ribs, took some painkillers, then collapsed into bed, happy to have his troubles drift away into dreamless sleep. 

In the middle of the night Freddie awakened, unable to sleep. He peered into Brian’s room to see that their guitarist was deeply in the grip of restful and dreamless slumber. The singer reached over to pull the blankets back up then brushed aside Brian’s wild and unruly mane of hair. “It will get better for you, Bri,” he promised him. “it would never be Queen without you.” 

Early the next morning John woke up first, hobbling to the bathroom to get his business done before the others started their morning rows about who needed to go next. When he returned from the bathroom, he saw Liz standing up with his arm sling in her hand. 

“I don’t want to wear that,” he scoffed. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.” 

“Fine.” she flung it aside, taking John in her arms as he stood before the mirror on the bureau. The bassist put on his pants while Liz folded her arms at his waist, putting her hands down his pants tantalizingly, making him chuckle. 

“I turned you into a monster didn’t I?”

“From the very first time I took your dick up me,” Liz teased. “me and Roger are going with Brian to his appointment. Coming?”

“No. I think he’ll be all right. Brian’s got real strength in him and I know it will turn out OK.” 

“I admire your positivity. Brian’s still in bed so I need to go get him.” 

“No, give me a little fondle first.” John pouted but Liz was already out the door. 

“Brian!” she knocked on his door then opened it, followed by Roger who was still in his pajamas. The two of them stood near Brian as he lay asleep then Liz reached out and put her hand to the side of his face, telling him to wake up. 

Two hazel eyes opened up, locked onto Liz’s face and Roger’s. “Liz, you look and sound much better-you’re not as congested. Roger, did you get that cut in the explosion?” 

Roger and Liz glanced at each other and began to laugh. Freddie and John came in to see what the ruckus was about then realized Brian had his eyesight back. 

“Oh thank god above!” the singer threw his arms out happily. 

“Oh Brian, we were so worried!” Liz hugged him as did Roger. John cuffed him on the shoulder and offered his congratulations. “I think we need to party tonight to undo all this stress we’ve endured!” 

“I’ll second that!” Roger chimed happily. “What do you say to that, Bri?”

Brian’s eyes shone with affection with his friends, something they all loved to see from him. “I say we party like there’s no tomorrow!”


End file.
